


If L'Oven You Is Wrong (I Don't Wanna Be Rye)

by SecretMaker



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Getting Together, I wrote a fic based on Christine's life and it's a mess (go figure), M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 17:30:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8722651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretMaker/pseuds/SecretMaker
Summary: Oikawa has a nice, ordinary life as the main baker for Green Leaf Patisserie, and he likes it that way.That is, until the day a customer on the phone takes that nice, ordinary life and turns it on his head.





	

“I would literally murder someone for a medium caramel latte.” Tooru snorted as several heads turned toward their most loyal customer, some fearful, some amused, some simply baffled.

 

“You don’t have to do that, Kou-chan,” Tooru answered. “I just talked to management, and it turns out we take cash now rather than heads on pikes. Would you like extra whipped cream today?”

 

“Please,” Sugawara answered. “You would not believe the day I’ve had.”

 

“Something to do with running Ryuu-chan over with a shopping cart and accidentally stealing a little girl’s favorite dolly, right?” Tooru asked. Sugawara slumped against the counter.

 

“I have officially fucked up any chance I ever had with him,” he groaned. Tooru snickered.

 

“You’re fine, Kou-chan,” he said as he topped off Sugawara’s drink with a veritable mountain of whipped cream. “He was sighing all through his shift. Which you would’ve seen if you had come in at your usual time. You’re not hiding, are you?” he teased as he slid the cup across the counter.

 

“Of course I’m hiding!” Suga huffed. “You would too, Tooru, and we all know it.”

 

“Alas,” Tooru sighed, flopping dramatically on his back across the counter. “We shall never know. For the fates have conspired against me so that there are simply no cute young men available for me to completely embarrass myself in front of. I shall remain unsullied and unloved forever.”

 

“Well, unloved at least,” Suga commented. Tooru glared at him upside-down and he grinned, a bit of whipped cream hanging off the tip of his nose. “We all know you’re already pretty sullied.”

 

“Those in glass houses, Kou-chan,” Tooru warned. “You’ve got no room to start throwing stones.” Suga shrugged and patted Tooru on the head. He gave the rest of the cafe a wave before skipping out into the cold early-spring air. Tooru stayed with on his back on the counter, waiting.

 

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before the bell above the door rang and Tooru’s latest favorite customer walked in. He barely managed a smirk before large, strong hands seized him by the apron and tossed him bodily off the counter. He grinned up at Iwaizumi from his place heaped on the floor. From this angle, he had an excellent view of the blush creeping its way up Iwaizumi’s neck.

 

“Hey, Makki,” Iwaizumi greeted. “Usual?” Hanamaki shot Tooru a glance and a raised eyebrow before turning back to Iwaizumi and nodding.

 

“One of those lemon cupcakes too,” he said. “Mattsun ate almost all of the last batch Akaashi gave me to test, so I’m desperate.” Iwaizumi said something in return, but Tooru didn’t hear it over the ringing of the phone. He heaved himself off the floor and wandered out to go answer it.

 

“I got it, Aka-chan,” he said with a grin. Akaashi made a face at the nickname. “Cover the front for me? Iwa-chan’s pulling his usual blushing-schoolgirl act in front of Makki again.” With that, Akaashi was gone, bursting through the double doors and leaving a cackling Tooru in his wake. He picked up the phone, still breathless from laughter and said, “Green Leaf Coffee Shop and Patisserie, how can I help you?”

 

“Uh,” said the voice on the other line. Tooru frowned, cradling the phone closer to his ear.

 

“Hello?” he tried again. “Can you hear me?”

 

“Yeah, sorry,” said the person. “Sorry. My name’s Kuroo Tetsurou and I’m calling from Black Cat Advertising, to place our midday order?” He phrased it like a question. Tooru’s brow furrowed; it was not the first time he’d talked to Kuroo, not by a long shot. Black Cat Advertising always ordered a box or two of pastries and coffee to go with it midway through the morning. So why was he acting so strange?

 

“Just give me one second while I pull up your file,” Tooru said. “I assume you will be placing your usual order?”

 

“Um, yes,” Kuroo said. Tooru hummed and started filling out a form.

 

“Okay, so that’s six chocolate muffins, six blueberry muffins, six apple danishes, four strawberry danishes, two macha cupcakes, a half-dozen chocolate chip cookies, eight black coffees, and two caramel macchiatos. Can I help you with anything else today?”

 

“Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about custom orders? You guys sell cakes, right?”

 

“On occasion,” Tooru answered. “We’re more known for our danishes than anything else, but Akaashi-kun’s cake decorating skills are second to none.”

 

“What are your most popular cupcake flavors?” Kuroo asked.

 

The conversation lasted much longer than Tooru had expected. Every time he answered one of Kuroo’s questions it seemed he had another, more inane followup. Tooru frowned at the clock as it ticked past ten minutes since he had picked up the phone.

 

“I think it might be easier if you told me what sort of event you needed this cake for,” Tooru said at last. “That way we can mock up a design and a few flavor choices. Then we can narrow it down rather than trying to pick from our entire menu.” Kuroo was quiet for a moment, then came his sheepish reply,

 

“I actually don’t need a cake,” he admitted. “I just wanted you to keep talking. You have a very pretty voice, you know.” Tooru felt his face turn red as he spluttered. Dimly, he was aware that he wasn’t alone, that he was standing in front of the back office’s door where everyone in the kitchens could hear his conversation. And it seemed that everyone in the kitchen comprised of most of his coworkers.

 

“I-” he started, but the rest of the sentence fell away before it could pass his lips. “Um.”

 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Kuroo all but shouted. “Please don’t be offended or anything. It was just a passing thought.”

 

“Um, no, it’s- it’s okay,” Tooru stuttered. “I’m- I’m flattered, really.” There was a long, awkward silence.

 

“So, um, I guess I have nothing else to keep you here,” Kuroo said at last.

 

“Right, uh, I’ll have your order filled within an hour,” Tooru answered. There was another awkward pause and then the line went dead. Tooru pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it.

 

“Doesn’t Daichi have a rule about personal calls while on the clock?” Came the absolute last voice Tooru wanted to hear. He gritted his teeth and turned to look into the sweetest chocolate-brown eyes in the entire shop.

 

“That wasn’t a personal call, Asa-chan,” Tooru said. “That was Black Cat’s lunch order.” He handed Asahi the order form for proof. Asahi took it, but didn’t take his eyes - or his lecherous grin - off of Tooru.

 

“It sure _sounded_ like a personal call,” Asahi said. “It _sounded_ like you were flirting with Kuroo, or Yamamoto, or whoever placed the order today.”

 

“It was Kuroo-san, and I wasn’t flirting with him,” Tooru protested. Asahi only grinned wider.

 

“No, but he was flirting with you,” he said. “You know how I know?”

 

“Enlighten me.”

 

“You may talk a big game, but the second someone compliments you and you’re not expecting it, you clam up,” Asahi said. “You turn redder than Iwaizumi that time Hanamaki dropped his wallet and bent over right in front of him. And you stutter.”

 

“Please, for the love of god, Asahi, do not tell Suga,” Tooru pleaded. “He’s got enough ammo on me without this.”

 

“Oh, I won’t tell him,” Asahi said. “Daichi’s another story, though.” Tooru groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

 

“I’m doomed,” he whispered.

 

-

 

“I’m doomed,” Tetsurou groaned to no one in particular as he flopped into his chair in the small conference room.

 

“Oh, hey, you’re back,” Tsukishima commented. “What took you so long?”

 

“That barista with the voice like an angel that just got done giving blowjob picked up the phone,” Tetsurou answered.

 

“Why do your descriptions keep getting more vivid?” Yaku grumbled.

 

“Deep, rumbly, a little raspy, but so, so sweet,” Tetsurou continued. “He was laughing when he answered.”

 

“So did you actually order us coffee?” Yamamoto asked.

 

“Yeah, but I don’t know why,” Tetsurou replied. “You don’t even work in this department.”

 

“Maybe,” Yamamoto admitted, “but I’m the only one on this whole floor besides Nobuyuki who can get your asses fired.”

 

“Abuse of power,” Tetsurou accused.

 

“Yep. So tell me, did you sweep blowjob-angel-voice off his feet?” Tetsurou groaned again and dropped his forehead onto the conference table.

 

“What’d you do?” Tsukishima’s voice sounded much too gleeful for someone who was watching their boss - and supposed friend, the jerk - throw his life away.

 

“I just wanted him to keep talking,” he whined.

 

“What did you do?” Yaku’s voice was much more stern and in line with the kind of sympathy Tetsurou wanted.

 

“I asked him about his job,” Tetsurou said.

 

“That… seems innocent enough,” Yaku said.

 

“It was, but then he asked me what kind of event I was asking for, and I panicked and told him I didn’t really need a cake and I just wanted to listen to him talk and he said he was flattered, but it was really awkward-sounding and god, I fucked up, I ruined everything, I have to move to Finland and start a new life-”

 

“I’ll pack your bags,” Tsukishima offered.

 

“You’re a true friend, Tsukki,” Tetsurou muttered.

 

“I try.”

 

The door to the conference room opened and Kenma entered, trailed by Lev, Inuoka, and Fukunaga, all rifling through the boxes of pastries.

 

“Would someone care to tell me why I’m always the only one available when the coffee arrives?” Kenma snarled. He curled up in the chair farthest away from the others, pulling his knees to his chest and cradling his coffee close.

 

“Because Kuroo-san says you hit it off with that little delivery driver with the black and yellow hair, but you’re too awkward and he’s too dense to make a move,” Lev answered, his mouth stuffed full of muffin. Kuroo raised his head a couple inches off the table, only to let it fall back down with a dull thud.

 

“Thank you, Lev, I needed another reason to want to die today,” he muttered to the wood.

 

“Anytime, Kuroo-san,” Lev chirped, digging around for another muffin.

 

“It’s not too late, Kuroo,” Yaku goaded. “We can still trade PAs anytime you want.”

 

“Please,” Tsukishima added.

 

“If I have to suffer, you both have to suffer with me,” Kuroo said. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel Yaku and Tsukishima deflating. Good. He should not be the only miserable person in this room.

 

He was just the _most_ miserable person in the room. That was fine.

 

“You know, if you’ve got a crush on someone down at Green Leaf, I could always have Yamaguchi set up a meeting,” Tsukishima offered. Kuroo looked up at him with narrowed eyes.

 

“And why would I trust an offer from you?” he asked.

 

“Look at that, he’s _learning,_ ” Yaku quipped.

 

“Because I don’t want to deal with you pining all day,” Tsukishima answered smoothly. “Believe it or not, I don’t enjoy watching you act even more pathetic than normal. My life is a lot better when you actually do your job yourself.”

 

“For the record, Bokuto was a much better PA than you,” Tetsurou muttered.

 

“Well, then, hire him back,” Tsukishima answered smoothly. “In the meantime, we have some focus groups to go over.”

 

“Oh, goody,” Tetsurou grumbled as he turned around and let Tsukishima load up the presentation on his laptop.

 

-

 

Tooru vowed after that first phone call never to answer the monstrous device again.

 

Every other staff member at Green Leaf Coffee Shop and Patiserie vowed to ensure he answered every single call that came in.

 

It was three days after the first time that Tooru answered the phone again and Kuroo’s voice filtered soft and embarrassed through the other line.

 

“Hi, this is Kuroo with Black Cat Advertising?” he said.

 

“Oh, uh, hi,” Tooru replied, the back of his neck heating. He could feel Akaashi and Iwaizumi both staring at him. “Wh- what can I get you today?”

 

“Oh, um, the usual, I guess,” Kuroo answered. Tooru nodded then realized Kuroo couldn’t see it and grimaced.

 

“Okay,” he said lamely. Akaashi snickered at him. Tooru flushed and turned so more of his back was facing the kitchen. “Can I get you anything else?” he asked. There was a heavy pause.

 

“It’s one of my coworkers’ birthday today, so I wanted to get him some cookies or something? Could you tell me what flavors you have?” Tooru smiled in spite of himself as he started listing them off.

 

When he ended the call some twenty minutes later and handed the order form off to Akaashi to box up, Tooru was feeling lighter than he had all week. He grinned as he loped into the front room, pausing only long enough to slap Iwaizumi on the ass.

 

“You’re looking cheerful,” Sugawara commented from his spot lazing against the counter, a cup filled with something frozen and smothered in caramel sauce in his hand.

 

“I am,” he replied with a wink. “Why are you here so late? Ryuu-chan’s shift ended like two hours ago.”

 

“Strangely enough, my life does not revolve around Tanaka,” Suga said. Tooru raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. “Okay, so it doesn’t _entirely_ revolve around Tanaka. Point is, I’m not here for him today, I’m here for Daichi and Asahi.”

 

“Got a double date?” Tooru asked.

 

“We have a date with destiny,” Suga replied. “Or at least, a date with Asahi’s Wii. I owe them both an ass-whooping at Mario Party.”

 

“You’re a scary person, Kou-chan,” Tooru commented. “But you’re not as subtle as you think. Dai-chan was just talking about having Ryuu-chan over for video games tonight. So it _is_ a double date, then.”

 

“Does it count as a date if the other party doesn’t know?” Asahi asked, pushing through the kitchen doors with a tray of biscottis in his hand. Tooru was treated to the marvelous sight of Suga turning white.

 

“It’s not a date,” he mumbled.

 

“Then why are you wearing the sweater he likes so much?” Asahi shot back.

 

“He- he likes this sweater?” Suga’s voice was small as he twisted the fabric between his fingers.

 

Before Asahi had time to answer, the bell above the door rang and Tanaka came flying in.

 

“Asahi, holy, shit man, what the fuck?” he shouted, darting straight up to the counter. Tooru watched out of the corner of his eye as Suga lifted his drink to take an awkward sip. “Why didn’t you fucking tell me Suga was coming over tonight? I thought we were just having a bros night! I look like shit today, dude!” A grin spread across Asahi’s face.

 

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” he purred, leaning back with his elbows against the prep counter. “Of course, if you’ve really got a problem, he’s right there. You could tell him yourself.”

 

The color drained out of Tanaka’s face as he turned in slow motion to see Suga staring at him, hand frozen with the cup halfway to his mouth. Tanaka squeaked and all at once he turned a red so deep it was almost burgundy. He spun on his heel and sprinted from the shop without another word. Asahi and Tooru both burst out laughing.

 

“Looks like it’s a double date after all, Kou-chan,” Tooru wheezed.

 

“That was even better than the time I caught Suga sniffing Tanaka’s cologne,” Asahi laughed. Suga fumbled his cup, spilling coffee and caramel all over his shirt in a sad attempt to save it. “Need a hand?” Asahi asked. “Or a room? A condom maybe?”

 

“I hate you so much,” Suga mumbled, his cheeks tinged a fetching shade of pink.

 

“Aw, cheer up, Kou-chan,” Tooru said. “Love is a wondrous gift, after all.” Mistake. That was a mistake. Tooru could see it in Sugawara’s eyes as he latched onto the sentence. He turned to face him with a wicked grin.

 

“Oh, so very wondrous,” he said. “I hear, for example, that you, dear Tooru, are caught in a torrid affair. Some sort of star-crossed lovers thing, where you only ever talk on the phone, but he fell madly in love with the soft tone of your voice? Where his sincerity and charm has left you - you! - utterly speechless time and time again? Care to tell me about that?”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Kou-chan,” Tooru sniffed. “Kuroo-san simply calls in the lunch orders for Black Cat, and sometimes he asks me about our other products.”

 

“Products he doesn’t really need,” Asahi added unhelpfully.

 

“Products he might need!” Tooru protested. “It’s all perfectly normal, thank you very much.”

 

“So tell me, Tooru, does he have a nice voice too?” Suga asked. Tooru rolled his eyes and pretended he wasn’t blushing.

 

“He has a perfectly ordinary voice,” he snapped. “And we have a perfectly ordinary business relationship. He calls in orders, I have them filled, and that’s it.”

 

“Oh, are we talking about Kuroo-san’s crush on Oikawa-san?” Tooru’s head snapped around so fast he lost his balance as he turned to see Yamaguchi pushing through the door to start his shift.

 

“Oh, so he does have a crush?!” Suga squealed.

 

“How would you even _know_ about that?” Tooru snapped. Yamaguchi gave him a flat look.

 

“Tsukki’s his PA,” he said with a shrug as he pulled his apron off the rack. “Apparently it takes him half an hour to work up the courage to call now, on the off chance that Oikawa-san will answer.” Tooru’s world narrowed to himself and Yamaguchi, who was looking at him with a vaguely frightened expression.

 

“Yama-chan,” he said softly, stepping forward.

 

“Oikawa-san, whatever you’re planning, I want no part in it,” Yamaguchi said. Tooru huffed and threw an arm around Yamaguchi’s shoulders, following him through the door behind the counter.

 

“Relax, Yama-chan,” Tooru said as he steered them into the kitchen. “I just want to talk to you about Kuroo-san and his possible weaknesses.”

 

“Do it on your own time,” Daichi said from his place at the stand mixer. “Besides, Oikawa, isn’t your shift over? Go home already.” Tooru pouted, tightening his hold on Yamaguchi.

 

“Fine,” he said at last. “But don’t think this is over, Yama-chan. After your shift I fully intend to pick your brain.”

 

“I look forward to it,” Yamaguchi grumbled, ducking out from under his arm. Tooru grinned and waved as obnoxiously as he could before he turned and left the kitchen.

 

“Alas, my poor admirers, Oikawa-san must be gone,” he sing-songed as he hung his apron up. Asahi and Sugawara ignored him, but he wasn’t expecting anything else. “Have fun on your date,” he called as he skipped out the door, pausing just long enough for Sugawara to drop his head on the counter with a dull thunk.

 

-

 

Tsukishima had been in a good mood all day.

 

He had been smiling when he came in. He had done all his work without complaint. He had gone out of his way to suggest changes to an advertisement that had low focus group ratings. He had brought Tetsurou coffee.

 

It was disgusting.

 

“Okay, Tsukki, I give up,” Tetsurou said as the clock ticked over to three o’clock and their last meeting of the day ended. “What gives.”

 

“What gives with what, Kuroo-san?” Tsukishima asked, not looking up from the papers he was shifting through.

 

“Why the good attitude?” Tetsurou asked. “You’ve been downright cheerful all day, and it’s freaking me out.” Tsukishima did look up at that, his face utterly devoid of expression.

 

“Should I be disagreeable and bitter, then?” he asked.

 

“Seeing as that’s how you’ve been every day for the past five years I’ve known you, yeah!” Tetsurou cried. “At very least tell me what’s got you so happy, so I know whether to call the cops or not.”

 

“Why would you call the cops?” Kenma asked. Tetsurou jumped. He had almost forgotten his best friend was still in the room.

 

“He’s Tsukki,” Tetsurou said. “If he’s happy, it probably means he ruined someone’s day. I’m just hoping it was something small like kicking a puppy instead of something big, like murder.”

 

“It’s going to be murder if you don’t drop it,” Tsukishima hummed.

 

“No, seriously, tell me!” Tetsurou insisted. There seemed to be little immediate danger, so he let his face slip into a leer and leaned forward on his elbows. “What, did you finally bag Freckles?”

 

“That,” Tsukishima said as he shuffled the papers into his briefcase and closed it with a snap, “is none of your business.”

 

“You totally did, didn’t you?” Tetsurou crowed. “Aw, I knew you could do it, Tsukki!”

 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tsukishima hummed. “Anyway, enough about me! Tell me, have you made any progress with Blowjob Angel Voice? Because all of my roommates work at that coffee shop. If you’re that desperate, Yachi offered to help you put a face to the voice.” Tsukishima was smiling, sweet and absolutely deadly. It made Tetsurou’s skin crawl.

 

“Fine,” he said. “You win. Keep whatever freaky happiness has stolen my darling, surly PA while I sit and wallow in my own cowardice.”

 

“Have fun with that,” Tsukishima said as he turned to leave. “Remember, you’ve got those voicemails waiting for you, and Nekomata-san wants the new mockups on his desk by Tuesday. Have a good night, Kuroo-san.”

 

“Oi, where are you going?” Tetsurou demanded. Tsukishima sighed heavily and glanced over his shoulder.

 

“I’m going to go bag Freckles,” he said. “It’s my mom’s birthday, where do you think I’m going?”

 

“Oh, was that today?” Tetsurou asked. “Sorry, I forgot. Have fun, tell her I said hi, all that.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes and nodded before he disappeared. Tetsurou took a deep breath, glancing at Kenma.

 

“Don’t,” Kenma said without looking up.

 

“I didn’t even say anything!” Tetsurou cried. Kenma snorted.

 

“You’re looking to project your own sorrow on someone else,” he said. “You think I’m a good target since I’m here, and since you’ve known me all your life. It won’t work.”

 

“So it won’t affect you at all if I mention that I overheard that delivery boy sighing over the phone about you today?” Tetsurou asked. Kenma’s cheeks turned pink, but otherwise he didn’t react.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said.

 

“You do too,” Tetsurou argued.

 

“Do not.”

 

“Do too.”

 

“Do not.”

 

Tetsurou grinned, watching his friend fiddle with his phone.

 

“Do too.”

 

“Do not.”

 

-

 

The next time the phone rang, Tooru was ready.

 

“Green Leaf Coffee Shop and Patiserie, how can I help you?” he asked in his smoothest tone of voice.

 

“Good morning, Oikawa-kun,” answered Kuroo.

 

“Morning, Kuroo-chan, the usual?” Tooru asked. He could hear the pause when Kuroo processed the nickname, but he picked up much more quickly than he had expected.

 

“That sounds almost as lovely as your voice,” Kuroo said. Tooru grinned. This was going to be fun.

 

“So that covers your pastries,” he purred, “but can I get you something sweet?”

 

“What did you have in mind?” Kuroo asked.

 

“Well, everyone could use a little sugar in their lives.”

 

There was a lengthy pause before Kuroo burst out into the most god-awful donkey’s bray of a laugh. Tooru jumped and pulled the receiver away from his ear to stare at it incredulously. He held the phone up again and tried not to blush as he listened to the obnoxious laughter, tinged with something so sincere that it made his heart skip a beat.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked when the braying had died down to much less unsettling chuckles.

 

“I’m wonderful,” Kuroo answered. “Oikawa, you really are a treat.”

 

“You have no idea how true that is,” Tooru purred.

 

“No, but I would love to find out,” Kuroo said. Tooru only paused a moment.

 

“That may happen sooner than you think,” he said. “I hear you’re invited to Yama-chan and company’s housewarming party.”

 

“You mean Yamaguchi? Yeah, his best friend is my PA. I’ll be there.” There was a pause. “I take it this means I’ll be seeing you there as well?”

 

“Maybe,” Oikawa sighed. “Of course, I’m not sure if it’s worth my time.”

 

“Would my being there make it worth a bit more?”

 

“Maybe,” Oikawa repeated. “I haven’t quite decided.”

 

“Well, then,” Kuroo said in a voice that made Oikawa think of sly smirk and glinting eyes, “I’ll just have to change that, won’t I?”

 

“Kuroo!” came a familiar voice filtering thin and muffled through the phone line. “Stop flirting with Oikawa and look at these damn spreads, will you?”

 

“Oh, is that Glasses-kun?” Tooru asked. “Tell him I said hi! Oh, and ask him when he wants to have that movie marathon, he never answered me!” There was a shuffle and several bangs, as if Tsukishima and Kuroo were fighting over the phone. Tooru hummed to himself, waiting to see who would win.

 

“Goodbye, Oikawa-san,” said Tsukishima, and he hung up before Tooru could reply.

 

Tooru set the receiver in its cradle with a grin.

 

“Oh god, what do you look so happy about?” Daichi asked. Tooru simply smiled wider at him and moved to start measuring out cups of flour for a new batch of muffins.

 

“Absolutely nothing, Dai-chan,” he simpered. Daichi gave him a cautious look and backed away. Tooru turned his smile back to the mixer and continued with his work.

 

-

 

The rest of he week seemed to fly by faster than any Tooru had experienced. One minute he was taking yet another order from Kuroo - and dropping several well-placed hints along the way - and the next he was in his room, agonizing over what to wear to the party.

 

“You don’t understand, Iwa-chan,” he whined. “It’s not like it’s just a party for the babies. Kuroo’s going to be there!”

 

“I know,” Iwaizumi said, not looking up from the magazine he was reading while sprawled on Tooru’s bed. “You told me. You’ve told the whole shop. Repeatedly.”

 

“Then why can’t you understand that this is much more important than a simple party?” he demanded. Iwaizumi sighed.

 

“Trashykawa, if you don’t pick out an outfit right now, we’re going to be late,” he snapped. He glanced up, and something in Tooru’s face must have been truly pathetic, for he continued, “You’re going to look great in anything. you always do.” Tooru managed a weak smile, turning back to his wardrobe.

 

“I’ve never been this nervous before,” he said.

 

“I still can’t figure out why you are,” Iwaizumi commented.

 

“Because!” Tooru cried. “Imagine if you were meeting Makki for the first time! You would want to look your best too.”

 

“I don’t see what one has to do with the other,” Iwaizumi grumbled. Tooru grinned and took the bait.

 

“Oh really?” he simpered. “You have no idea why you meeting Makki-chan for the first time could be stressful? How about Aka-chan? I’ve seen how you look at him too. Everyone’s seen the way you look at both of them.”

 

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi grumbled, turning back to his magazine. Tooru hummed and faced the mirror again.

 

“Okay, I’ve figured it out,” he said. “I just need you to stand next to me the entire night. Then I’ll look amazing by comparison, and Kuroo-chan won’t know what hit him.”

 

“Oh, fuck off,” Iwaizumi snapped.

 

“Come on, Iwa-chan!” Tooru chirped, skipping over to drag him off the bed. “With your help, this is going to be the best night ever!”

 

-

 

Tetsurou felt like shit.

 

Piled under enough blankets to furnish a small hotel and swaddled in three hoodies and a scarf, he was still freezing. Kenma sat on the edge of his bed, making faces at him whenever he had to change the damp cloth on Tetsurou’s forehead or clear out the mountain of used tissues scattered around him.

 

The worst part was that Kenma insisted on keeping him there, even though he clearly wasn’t all that sick.

 

“Kenma, I have to go that party,” Tetsurou whined, wincing at the knife in his throat and the pounding in his head. “I promised Angel Voice I’d be there.”

 

“Too bad,” Kenma said without looking up from his game.

 

“Kenmaaaa.” Kenma didn’t answer. Tetsurou huffed and sneezed, burrowing down a bit deeper into the covers so he could pout more effectively. Kenma smirked at him and climbed off the bed. “Where are you going?” Tetsurou wheezed.

 

“To make you some food,” Kenma said. He paused to push Tetsurou’s bangs off of his forehead. “I’ll make you some soup and set up a movie or something before I go, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Tetsurou said. “I love you.”

 

“Okay, Kuro,” Kenma said, but he did lean down to kiss Tetsurou’s forehead. “Text me if you need anything. Or just at all. I could use a free excuse to leave early.”

 

“No,” Tetsurou muttered. “If I have to suffer, so do you.” Kenma stuck his tongue out at him. He gave him one last pat to the head then left the room. Tetsurou groaned and pulled the blanket up over his head.

 

-

 

“Dai-chan,” whined Tooru, wrapping his arms around Daichi’s neck and letting his weight hang there.

 

“What do you want, Oikawa?” Daichi asked, barely budging under Tooru.

 

“He’s not here,” Tooru sobbed. “He was supposed to be here, I was supposed to meet him tonight, but he’s not here and I’m alone!”

 

“Who are we even talking about?” Daichi asked. “Are you still on about Kuroo?”

 

“Yes!” Tooru screeched. “His little friend showed up, because he and Chibi-chan are close, and apparently Kuroo-chan has the flu and won’t be here and my entire life is over now!”

 

“I’ve met Kuroo,” Daichi told him. “You’re not missing much.” Tooru stood up, pouting.

 

“You don’t understand,” he huffed. “My wit and charm are lost over the phone. If I’m going to flirt someone out of their pants, I have to be face-to-face.”

 

“That’s disgusting,” Daichi commented. “And I have better things to do than listen to you whine.”

 

“Aw, come on, Dai-chan,” Tooru prodded. “It’s your turn!” Daichi looked around desperately for a moment, then his shoulders slumped.

 

“I’ll see what I can do,” he muttered.

 

“Dai-chan, have I ever told you how much I adore you?” Tooru asked. Daichi made a face.

 

“No, and I would prefer if you never did,” he said. Tooru grinned and leaned down to press a wet kiss to Daichi’s cheek. Daichi scowled and wiped it away with his sleeve before shoving Tooru away and storming off.

 

“Love you, Dai-chan!” Tooru called after him with a giggle. Daichi waved a hand over his shoulder in acknowledgment as he left.

 

Tooru was left standing alone in the kitchen. He stuffed one hand in his pocket, his knuckles bumping up against the neatly folded piece of paper tucked away inside. The little pudding-head had looked vaguely disgusted when he had handed it to Tooru, muttering something about pathetic best friends and “Just call him so he won’t be miserable.” Tooru considered.

 

If he called tonight, Kuroo would definitely be sick, and he might not be up for talking much. But on the other hand, he had been promised face-to-face contact, so really he deserved some sort of consolation. Tooru pulled out his phone and the paper and contemplated for a moment.

 

Before he could come to a decision, the back door opened and he was joined by a frantic-looking Iwaizumi.

 

“Mattsun’s here,” he gasped, clutching Tooru’s shoulder for balance.

 

“Iwa-chan?”

 

“You know that really tall guy Makki works with? The one who comes in like once a week and spends the whole time making puns with Suga?” Iwaizumi panted. Tooru nodded. “He’s here. He’s Makki’s best friend, and he seems to think the definition of a good time is insinuating that I want into Makki’s pants.”

 

“But Iwa-chan, you do want into Makki’s pants,” Tooru pointed out.

 

“No I don’t!” Iwaizumi screeched.

 

“Whatever you say,” Tooru sighed. “Look, you’re my best friend and I love you, but I don’t have the energy to deal with whatever little tangle you and Makki and Akaashi-chan have gotten yourselves into. I’m dealing with my own crisis at the moment, thank you very much.” Iwaizumi huffed and crossed his arms.

 

“What could possibly be so important that you would abandon me to the wolves?” he demanded. Tooru held up the piece of paper.

 

“Kuroo didn’t come tonight because he’s sick, and his friend gave me his number and now I don’t know what to do!” he whined. Iwaizumi stared at him as though he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to leave or punch Tooru in the face and then leave.

 

“So you can get home on your own, right?” he asked. Tooru stared at him. “I really need you to get home on your own, because Akaashi and I are going to see this movie in like twenty minutes, and I’m not babysitting your apparently drunk ass.”

 

“Iwa-chan, I’m not drunk,” Tooru protested. “I’m having a serious crisis here, and as my best friend since birth, I would expect that you’d be a little more sympathetic.”

 

“Have a safe trip home,” Iwaizumi said, backing out of the kitchen. “I really, really hope you don't accidentally fall into a deep pit and die. All alone. In the dark. Choking on your own vomit.”

 

“Iwa-chan, you’re the worst friend ever,” Tooru called. Iwaizumi grinned and turned on his heel, taking off across the house. Tooru sighed and looked down at the phone in his hand. He bit his lip as he pulled up a new text message.

 

ME: [So are you really sick, or are you just that nervous to finally be in my glorious presence?]

 

He bit his lip as he locked his phone and stuffed it in his pocket. With Iwaizumi gone and the early shift waiting for him in the morning, there was no reason for Tooru to stay. He gave Hinata a ruffle on the head and the others all a vague wave and made his way out into the night.

 

-

 

Tetsurou woke to a throbbing head and a growling stomach. He squinted into the darkness until the numbers on his clock solidified into a disappointing 4:58 AM. Letting out a groan, he fished his phone out from under his pillow, only to blink in confusion at the text waiting for him.

 

UNKNOWN: [So are you really sick, or are you just that nervous to finally be in my glorious presence?]

 

Tetsurou stared at the text and the number attached to it. He assumed it was from someone he would have seen the day before, so it could only have been one of his coworkers or someone at the party. But he had the numbers of all the people he talked to at work, so that only left one option.

 

But how would someone at Tsukishima’s housewarming party get his number?

 

ME: [Sorry, who is this?]

 

He dropped his phone onto the bed and began the arduous process of dragging himself out of it.

 

A new text was waiting for him when he staggered back from the bathroom. He thumbed it open as he pulled the blankets tight around himself, shivering.

 

UNKNOWN: [Let’s play a guessing game.]

 

Tetsurou groaned. He was not in a good place to be playing games right then.

 

ME: [Cant you just tell me?]

 

UNKNOWN: [What would be the fun in that?]

 

UNKNOWN: [Come on, I’ll give you three questions. Then you have to guess.]

 

Tetsurou groaned.

 

ME: [Can one of my questions be who are you]

 

UNKNOWN: [That’s not how the game works]

 

ME: [Fine]

 

ME: [Give me a minute though my heads swimming]

 

UNKNOWN: [That’s fine. Tell you what. You have until the end of the day. Any conversation you want, but only three questions about me. And then at six, you have to guess.]

 

UNKNOWN: [Deal?]

 

Tetsurou shook his head and rubbed at a temple. This was not going to be fun.

 

ME: [Deal]

 

-

 

Tooru was elbow-deep in a broken espresso machine when the first question came in.

 

KUROO-CHAN: [Okay fist question how awful is your hair]

 

Tooru stared at his phone, fighting back the urge to screech in offense.

 

ME: [My hair is just as delightful as the rest of me, thank you very much]

 

KUROO-CHAN: [You dont seem very delightful right now]

 

ME: [Since you’re clearly sick out of your mind I’ll forgive that oversight.]

 

KUROO-CHAN: [If you were really kind you’d let me out of this game]

 

Tooru hummed, pretending to consider.

 

ME: [Nope! Two more questions, Kuroo-san.]

 

When Kuroo didn’t reply, Tooru turned back to the espresso machine with a shrug. He frowned and gave it a good whack to the side. When he pressed a button, it gurgled to life as if nothing had ever been wrong.

 

“Whatever, you piece of shit,” he mumbled at it as the bell over the door rang. Plastering his customer service smile into place, he turned and greeted the man who walked in. “Welcome to Green leaf. What can I get you today, sir?”

 

“Medium coffee, black, and a blueberry danish,” the man said, holding out a 10,000 yen note. Tooru blinked at it and smiled wider.

 

“I’d be happy to prepare that for you, sir, but do you have any smaller notes? I’m afraid I’m not authorized to take anything that large this early in the morning.” The man huffed and glared at him.

 

“No, I don’t have anything smaller,” he snapped. “Just take it and get me my coffee.”

 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Tooru repeated, adding a bit more sugar to his smile while internally he was screaming. “As I said, I cannot accept that bill right now.”

 

“Bullshit,” the man shouted. Tooru jumped at the sound. The kitchen door swung open and Daichi came out. Tooru caught sight of Akaashi and Tanaka trying to peek out into the main area.

 

“Good morning sir,” Daichi greeted. “Is there a problem here?”

 

“Are you the manager?” the man asked. Without waiting for Daichi to answer, he continued, “Look, all I want is a coffee and a danish, but this asshole won’t take my money.” Tooru smiled and turned to pour the man a cup of coffee. He grabbed a danish from behind the display and dropped it in a bag.

 

“Well, sir, as I’m sure Oikawa-kun has told you, we cannot accept bills that large this early in the day,” Daichi said. “However, if you have any smaller bills, we would be more than happy to accept those.”

 

“I don’t have smaller bills,” the man snapped, “I’m _traveling._ The whole point of coming into this shithole was to break this one.”

 

“I believe you may have us confused with a bank,” Daichi hummed. “If you were to give us that bill now, the only change we would be able to offer you would be two thousand yen, as we have only just opened for the day. However, I am sure a generous, honorable man such as yourself would be more than willing to leave the remainder as a charitable donation.” He finished with a smile that made Tooru’s blood run cold. The man sputtered, then slammed the bill on the counter, snatched the coffee and bag from Tooru’s hand, and turned on his heel to stalk out.

 

“Oikawa?” Tooru hummed and turned to where Akaashi was poking his head out the kitchen door. “Wasn’t that the danish you dropped earlier?”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Kaashi-chan,” Tooru answered, smiling cheerily at Daichi’s glare. His phone buzzed and he gave a delighted gasp, digging it out of his apron pocket.

 

“Oikawa, what have I told you about phones behind the counter?” Daichi demanded.

 

“Dai-chan, what have I told _you_ about fucking Asa-chan in the back office when you think everyone’s gone home for the night?” Tooru replied.

 

“Isn’t your shift over?” Daichi asked.

 

“Nope!” Oikawa chirped. “I’ve still got over an hour before Iwa-chan gets here to relieve me.”

 

“Good,” Daichi purred. “Then go scrub the men’s room.” Tooru thought about arguing that this was cruel and unusual punishment. But then the door opened and Sugawara walked up to the counter with a grin and Tanaka burst out of the kitchen to fill him in.

 

Tooru took his punishment without a word.

 

-

 

ME: [Okay Mystery Person, next question}

 

ME: [Have we ever met face-to-face?]

 

UNKNOWN: [That would be a no, my friend]

 

ME: [Then why the fuck do you have this number?]

 

UNKNOWN: [Is that your final question?]

 

Tetsurou thought about it. His head was much clearer now, and he was pretty sure he knew who he had been texting all day. If all he needed was confirmation, then-

 

ME: [Sure why not]

 

UNKNOWN: [Your pudding-head friend gave it to me. He said I should put everyone out of their misery.]

 

Tetsurou smiled.

 

ME: [Yeah, he can be blunt like that.]

 

ME: [Of course, he’s probably just sick of how flustered I get whenever I get done talking to you.]

 

ME: [So tell me, why the guessing game? You could have just called and I would have recognized you right away]

 

UNKNOWN: [What would be the fun in that?]

 

UNKNOWN: [Also, you were sick. I didn’t know if you were even capable of talking.]

 

Tetsurou bit his lip.

 

ME: [I’m capable now.]

 

The seconds ticked by in agony as Tetsurou stared at the message. He watched the notification telling him Oikawa had read it pop up, and instantly regretted it. But before he could say anything, the message disappeared, replaced by an incoming call alert. Tetsurou swiped to accept and brought the phone up to his ear.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Pick a number between one and nine.” Tetsurou’s brow furrowed.

 

“Why?” he asked.

 

“Just pick,” Oikawa said.

 

“Fine, seven. Why am I picking?” he asked.

 

“It’s a surprise!” Oikawa answered. “You won’t find out until you come visit me at the cafe.” Tetsurou smiled and leaned back, cuddled up to his pillow.

 

“Do I get a clue?” he asked. Oikawa hummed as though thinking about it.

 

“Nope!” Oikawa giggled, the sound warming Tetsurou’s heart.

 

“You brat,” he chuckled. “I’ll try to come over sometime this week.” Oikawa cheered.

 

“When?” he demanded. “I’m off on Thursday, but I’m covering for Akaashi, so I work five to one all the rest of this week.” Tetsurou smiled at the excitement in his voice.

 

“I’ll come by on Friday,” he said. “I have a meeting at ten, so I can head over after that,” he offered. Oikawa cheered again. Tetsurou smiled.

 

-

 

Tooru was a mess. Ever since he had talked to Kuroo on the phone on Sunday morning, he had been both looking forward to and dreading Friday. Time was doing that irritating thing where it both crawled by and raced ahead so that on Thursday night Tooru was left lying in his bed wondering where the week had gone. And then he closed his eyes once, and it was Friday morning and he was due to meet Kuroo in just over six hours. He dragged himself out of bed and over to his dresser.

 

Daichi and Tanaka were already there when Tooru arrived, along with Suga, sitting with his laptop at the counter as though nothing were out of place.

 

“Doesn’t Dai-chan have a rule about letting civilians in outside of business hours?” he yawned as he slipped past Suga and behind the counter.

 

“Do I even count as a civilian any more?” Suga asked. Tooru hummed.

 

“Good point. Have you actually fucked Ryuu-chan yet?” he asked. Suga shot him a venomous glare.

 

“What’s up with you?” he asked. “You’re usually disgustingly chipper in the morning.” Tooru sighed and leaned his hip on the counter, crossing his arms.

 

“It’s Friday,” he said petulantly.

 

“Most people love Fridays,” Suga pointed out.

 

“Most people don’t work retail,” Tooru replied. “I don’t get normal weekends, remember?”

 

“Okay, so what’s so important about Friday?” Suga asked.

 

“I don’t want to tell you,” Tooru whined. He slid down the counter until he could fold his arms on top of it, resting his chin on top of them. Suga reached out to pat his head, fingers stroking through his hair tenderly.

 

“Tell me before I break your perfect little nose,” he cooed. Tooru shuddered.

 

“Okay, okay,” he whimpered, tugging his head back from Suga’s grasp. “Kuroo-san from Black Cat Advertising is supposed to come in today,” he said. A grin spread across Suga’s face.

 

“Oh is he now?” he asked. Tooru nodded, letting his eyes fall closed. Suga’s hand returned to his hair.

 

“Hey,” he murmured. Tooru grunted in response. “You’re going to be fine, Oikawa. He’ll love you. Everyone does.”

 

“I don’t,” Tooru mumbled. Suga sighed.

 

“I know you don’t,” he said. “But trust me, no one else sees you that way. And besides, if he’s insisting on meeting you face-to-face, rather than just flirting like you have been, then he already sees something in you that’s worth exploring.” Tooru cracked an eye open and tilted his head back to look at Suga.

 

“Why are you being nice to me?” he asked. Suga smiled sweetly.

 

“Because when everything goes right with Kuroo, it’ll give me free reign to make your life a living hell,” he cooed. Tooru nodded and went back to staring at his eyelids.

 

“Oikawa!” shouted Daichi. Tooru yawned and rolled over to look up at him.

 

“Yes, Dai-chan?” he purred.

 

“Do the words ‘lie on the counter and get petted by customers’ appear anywhere in your job description?” Daichi asked.

 

“No,” Tooru said, “but really they should. Cat cafes make a lot of money, and I make an excellent cat.” Daichi threw a towel at him.

 

“Get to work,” he growled, then turned and stalked back into the kitchen. Tooru gave Suga a playful salute as he followed him.

 

“So Dai-chan,” Tooru said as he washed his hands. “I have a favor to ask.

 

“What do you want?” Daichi called from the office.

 

“I was hoping that you could just, you know, kill me,” Tooru answered. “Preferably before ten o’clock, please.”

 

“Why, what happens at ten?” Tanaka asked as he lined up cupcakes on a tray. Tooru dried his hands and picked up an icing bag.

 

“At ten the man of my dreams is coming to visit, and even if it goes perfectly my life is still over,” he answered. “Your boyfriend is poised with an army of I-told-you-sos, just waiting to strike.”

 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Tanaka grumbled, blushing to his ears. Tooru snorted.

 

“Whatever you say, Ryuu-chan,” he said. “So, are either of you going to take me up on that offer? I am literally asking you to do the one thing I know you’ve wanted to since the day we met.”

 

“No, Oikawa, we are not killing you,” Daichi said. “At least not until Akaashi comes back. I don’t have time to decorate all these pastries, and I don’t trust Tanaka or Asahi to do it for me.”

 

“Aw, you trust me, Dai-chan?” Tooru cried, clutching the icing bag to his chest. “I knew we were getting closer!”

 

“I tolerate you,” Daichi corrected, “for the sole reason that you are decent when it comes to piping and decorations. Absolutely nothing more than that.” Tooru winked at him, laughing at the scowl on his face even as he turned back to the cupcakes. Daichi snorted and retreated to his office, closing the door behind him. Tanaka pulled out a clean mixing bowl and started on a new batch of dough.

 

“So the guy you’ve been talking to from Black Cat is coming, huh?” he asked. Tooru nodded, setting down the icing and pulling out a bin of edible pearls.

 

“He promised me on Sunday that he’d drop by after a meeting today,” he said. “We were supposed to meet last week, at the babies’ housewarming party, but apparently he got sick.”

 

“Are you sure that’s safe?” Tanaka asked. “Telling him to come meet you, I mean.” Tooru shrugged.

 

“I mean, he already knew where I worked,” he pointed out. “And if I am going to meet someone I’ve only talked to over the phone, isn’t it safer to do so in a public place, with people I trust around?”

 

“I guess that makes sense,” Tanaka said. “Are you prepared, though? You haven’t made me listen to one rehearsed speech all week, after all.”

 

"I am absolutely, totally, one-hundred percent not prepared for this," Tooru answered. He stuck his tongue out as he nudged a pearl back into place. "Hence my offer to let you or Dai-chan kill me. Which still stands, by the way."

 

Tanaka only chuckled and began portioning out balls of cookie dough on an oven tray.

 

Tooru liked working with Tanaka. It was often surprisingly quiet, once they both got into it. They moved around each other like cogs, delicate and precise. Behind the counter they were all jokes and loud exclamations - often at each other's expense - but back here they were all but silent.

 

Which is why Tooru didn't notice the time ticking by. Iwaizumi, Asahi, and Yachi all showed up to work, manning the front counter while Tooru and Tanaka stayed in the back. Tooru kept the ovens going while Tanaka handled the phones and the special orders, and before Tooru knew it the clock struck ten.

 

He froze in place, cinnamon glaze dripping from his spatula. The kitchen door opened and Iwaizumi strode in with a wicked smirk. He took the spatula from Tooru and shoved him toward the door.

 

"No, Iwa-chan, don't," Tooru pleaded, digging his heels in though he knew it would do him no good. "Please, don't make me go out there. You can stay out there, and tell him I called in sick. Or I had a family emergency. Or that I chopped off my hand slicing walnuts and had to go to the emergency room. Anything!" Iwaizumi ignored him, pushing between his shoulder blades until he tumbled through the door.

 

"Oikawa-san!" squeaked Yachi, scrambling to his side. "Are you okay?"

 

"I will never be okay again, Hitoka-chan," Tooru groaned, his nose squashed into the floor.

 

"Are you hurt?" she shrieked. "Do you need me to drive you to the hospital? I don't know how to drive!"

 

"It's okay, Hitoka-chan," he assured her, sitting up and rubbing at his nose. "I was exaggerating. I promise, I'm fine."

 

"You _are_ fine," said a voice Tooru would recognize anywhere. He looked up to see a man standing on the other side of the counter, grinning at him from under a tangled mass of spiky black hair. Sharp, golden eyes locked onto Tooru's, and the smirk grew.

 

 _Fuck_ , Kuroo was handsome. He had all the sharp angles and smooth edges that Tooru had imagined, plus a honey-rich skin tone and a playful glint in his eyes. It might have been the angle, but he looked like he was even taller than Tooru.

 

"You must be Kuroo-san," Tooru purred, climbing to his feet. _Shit,_ he thought. _He_ is _taller than me._ "I have to say, you're even more gorgeous than you were in my dreams." Kuroo's eyes lit up and his smile widened.

 

"You'll have to forgive my rudeness," he said, leaning over the counter. "I was so shocked, you see. I've never been in the presence of an angel before."

 

"Oh, god, get a room," groaned Daichi from behind Tooru. "And don't flirt over my counter. If you're on break, Oikawa, take off the apron, you know the rules."

 

"Always a pleasure, Sawamura," said Kuroo. Tooru caught sight of Daichi rolling his eyes as he hung his apron on a peg. Daichi caught Kuroo's arm, tugging him close and murmuring something Tooru couldn't make out. Kuroo nodded and pulled away, his face serious. Tooru had to shake himself to keep from staring at the way it changed his entire face to something that made Tooru’s knees tremble. He simply grabbed the basket he had stashed under the counter, and then Kuroo’s arm, and darted out of the cafe.

 

“Where are we going?” Kuroo asked.

 

“Just down the street,” Tooru answered. “I’m not really supposed to go far, in case something happens and Dai-chan needs someone to yell at for it.” He led Kuroo to the park lot he had discovered not long after he had started working at Green Leaf.

 

It was little more than an empty lot, tucked in the space between an office building and a family restaurant. Someone had evidently loved it, though, and turned it into a tiny garden, complete with benches and strings of lanterns that lit up every night without fail.

 

“This is my favorite place in the world,” Tooru said as he plopped down on one of the benches. “For some reason pretty much no one knows about it, though. So it’s almost always empty.”

 

“This is amazing,” Kuroo said. “I would never have guessed this was back here.” Tooru grinned and started digging around in his basket.

 

“It’s probably a bit early for lunch for you, right?” he asked as he started pulling out pastries. “But I figured a mid-morning snack wouldn’t hurt.”

 

“That reminds me,” Kuroo said, accepting a danish from Tooru. “Why did you have me guess a number?” Tooru smiled and reached into the basket to pull out a box.

 

“I have nine specialty pastries that no one else in the shop can make,” he said. “This is number seven.” Kuroo took the box, glancing at Tooru as he fiddled with the twine holding it closed.

 

“I’m going to save it,” he said with a sudden grin.

 

“What? No!” Tooru cried. “I want to know what you think of it!” Kuroo only grinned wider.

 

“Then you’ll have to call me tonight, won’t you?” he asked, biting into his danish.

 

“You-” Tooru glared at him. “Okay. That was pretty damn smooth.”

 

“Of course it was,” Kuroo said. “I said it.” He took another bite, only to start choking, sputtering crumbs and cranberries everywhere. Tooru yelped and thumped him on the back. Kuroo swallowed at last, breathing hard through his nose and wiping tears from his eyes.

 

“Are you okay?” Tooru cried. Kuroo coughed one more time, then buried his head in his hands.

 

“I was doing so well,” he groaned. “I actually looked cool for once.” Tooru snorted. Warmth bubbled up in his stomach and burst forth in a laugh that made his sides hurt and his face scrunch and tears spring to his eyes.

 

As the laughter died down and Tooru regained control of himself, he caught Kuroo looking at him with the kind of smile that made his heart jump in his throat.

 

“What?” he asked, suddenly self-conscious.

 

“You’re cute,” Kuroo answered. “Like, way cuter than I thought you’d be, and that’s saying a lot.” Heat flooded Tooru’s cheeks and he looked away.

 

“I’m usually the smooth one,” he muttered. Kuroo chuckled.

 

“Good, because normally I’m the embarrassing one,” he said. “I swear I’ve never flirted successfully with anyone in my life.” Tooru smiled at that, bumping Kuroo’s shoulder with his own. He glanced at his watch and winced. “Time to go back?” Kuroo asked.

 

“In a minute,” Tooru answered. “I don’t really want to.”

 

“When’s your next day off?” Kuroo asked.

 

“Not ‘till next Sunday, why?”

 

“Because I want to take you out to a proper lunch,” he answered. “In a restaurant, with food that neither of us prepared.” Tooru smiled.

 

“That sounds lovely,” he said. “In the meantime, I’ll call you tonight?”

 

“I look forward to it,” Kuroo said, absolutely sincere. Tooru blushed, trying to cover it by standing up and striding away.

 

-

 

Tetsurou knew he should dread returning to the office that day, but he was too busy riding the high of finally meeting Oikawa to care.

 

When he stepped into the cluster of offices and cubicles that housed his department and saw all the shining faces waiting for him, he remembered.

 

"So?" asked Taketora, literally bouncing in place and leaning toward Tetsurou with a wicked smile on his face. "How'd it go?"

 

"It went fine," Tetsurou answered as nonchalantly as possible. The disgusted noise from Kenma's desk in the corner told him he didn't do as well as he had hoped. "Why is everyone sitting around? Don't you all have jobs to do?"

 

"We just wanted to hear about it," Yaku said. "It's not every day your boss meets the sexy-voiced love of his life, after all."

 

"You used protection, right?" asked Taketora.

 

"You say that like there's a chance he got laid," Tsukishima piped. "This is Kuroo we're talking about."

 

"Oh, you're right," Taketora hummed. "So did he run away screaming immediately, or did he give you long enough to introduce yourself first?"

 

"Why do you all suck?" Tetsurou groaned. "I thought you were my friends."

 

"You pay us," Tsukishima pointed out. "We're literally all here because we have to be."

 

"Kenma's not," Tetsurou protested. "Kenma's here because he's my best friend and he loves me. Right, Kenma?"

 

"You don't bother me or have expectations," Kenma answered without looking up from his game. Tetsurou staggered backward, hand over his heart.

 

“Isn’t there anyone who loves me for me?” he cried.

 

“No,” Tsukishima said. Tetsurou let out a _humph_ and slunk over to his desk.

 

“Just for that, you get to organize the file room today,” he muttered. Tsukishima glared at him, but made no reply as he stood and stalked away to the room so tightly packed with filing cabinets that no one had bothered to organize it for the past thirty years or so. It was one of Tetsurou’s fondest dreams that someday it would be entirely cleaned and cataloged, and he wasn’t above using Tsukishima to achieve that dream. He settled into his desk feeling more satisfied than he had in quite some time.

 

As his computer booted up, Tetsurou slipped his bag and the pastry box Oikawa had given him into a drawer. He smiled at the thought of getting to talk to him again that night.

 

-

 

Tooru had never baked so much in his life. Even working at a bakery had never quite dulled his love for the craft, but it had been a while since he had made anything simply because the urge was so strong it felt like he would combust if he didn’t get his hands on some eggs and some flour right _now._ Since he had gotten home at two that afternoon he had made six batches of cookies, three of cupcakes, and an entire apple pie. Now he was out of flour and clean mixing bowls and it was all he could do not to scream.

 

Kuroo worked in an office. He had a nine-to-five, not the ever-changing hours Tooru worked. It was perfectly reasonable that he wouldn’t have called by five-twenty-two. Tooru simply had to be patient.

 

When the phone rang, he launched himself across the counter and onto the coffee table in his scramble to get to it.

 

“Hello?” he breathed.

 

“Are you actually waiting by the phone for him to call?” asked Suga. “Because you answered in less than ten seconds. I was timing you.”

 

“I am _not,_ ” he huffed. “I just happened to have it in my hand when you called.

 

“Sure,” Suga hummed.

 

“What do you want, Kou-chan?” Tooru asked.

 

“What, do I need a reason to check up on my darling friend?” Suga asked. Tooru snorted. “Okay, fine, I wanted to make sure you didn’t over-stress bake again,” he admitted. Tooru glanced at his kitchen, piled high with cooling racks and desert trays.

 

“Uh.”

 

“You did, didn’t you?” Suga asked. “Oikawa, what am I going to do with you?”

 

“Love me forever?” he suggested. “It’s not like I could help it! After my knee blew and Iwa-chan wouldn’t let me exercise off my stress, I had to do something! At least the baking is productive.”

 

“Yes, but you can’t sell any of that in the shop since you made it in your own kitchen,” Suga pointed out. “So you’re stuck with what I’m guessing is a mountain of pastries and nothing to do with them.”

 

“I’ll bring them to the fire station again,” Tooru said, waving his hand to bat the question away. “You can always find something to do with excess pastries, Kou-chan.”

 

“Right, well anyway, I wanted to see if-” Suga was interrupted by Tooru’s incoming call tone. He pulled the phone away from his ear to glance at it, and had to remind himself to breathe.

 

“Kou-chan, I’ll call you back,” he said. He barely heard Suga’s ‘Good luck!’ as he switched calls. He paused a moment to collect himself, the purred into the receiver, “Hello?”

 

“You aren’t human,” Kuroo groaned.

 

“Excuse me?!” Tooru gasped.

 

“I ate that- what was it you gave me?” he asked. Tooru bit his lip.

 

“It was a meringue bar,” he answered.

 

“I ate that meringue bar you gave me, and it was better than most sexual experiences I’ve had,” Kuroo said. “No human can make something taste that good.” Tooru’s heart stopped and he sank to the floor. His knees curled into his chest and he leaned his forehead on them, wrapping his free arm around his shins.

 

“I thought you’d hated it,” he whispered.

 

“Oh, no, I’m sorry!” Kuroo cried. “No, I loved it! Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think-” Tooru smiled at the genuine concern in his voice, the way he seemed so desperate to make sure Tooru didn’t think he was being insulted.

 

“It’s okay,” he said, interrupting Kuroo’s babble. “I’m glad you liked it.”

 

“I did,” Kuroo said. “I’m going to need you to make me a lot more.” Tooru’s smile widened, stretching enough to make his cheeks hurt.

 

“I can probably arrange that,” he said. “But are you sure you want more meringues? I can make a lot of different things, you know.”

 

“Really?” Kuroo asked. “Like what?”

 

“Like anything,” he said. “That’s what I do at Green Leaf, you know, when I’m not answering phones. I went to school for baking and everything.”

 

“You’re amazing.” He said it with such sincerity that Tooru blushed.

 

“I’m really not,” he muttered. “I’ve got a temper. And an ego that’s bigger than anyone’s I know. I overwork myself, and I’m manipulative. I find out people’s weaknesses and I use them against them.” He bit his lip, not sure where this sudden urge to share all his faults with Kuroo was coming from.

 

“I’m pretentious,” Kuroo said.

 

“What?”

 

“I’m pretentious,” he repeated. “I use big words just because they’re big and I like feeling smart. I figured since we were sharing, I should tell you some of my flaws.”

 

“I don’t think pretension is all that bad,” Tooru said.

 

“I once used the word docosahexaenoic acid because I was mad at someone for saying they didn’t like fish,” Kuroo said. Tooru blinked.

 

“I don’t know what to say to that,” he said. “Except that I have watched literally every alien documentary that Japanese television has ever produced, and several American ones as well.”

 

“My favorite thing to do when I meet someone is provoke them. I did it so much to my PA that now he’s taken revenge and my mother thinks I’m a horrible human being.”

 

“I’m a whiner.”

 

“I’m clingy.”

 

“I’m clingier.” Kuroo chuckled.

 

“And competitive, I see,” he commented. Tooru bit down on a smile. “So we’re both a bit screwy. If nothing else, it’ll be interesting getting to know you.”

 

“You’re just saying that,” Tooru said.

 

“I don’t know, it’s been interesting so far.” Again, Kuroo’s voice was shameless in its sincerity. Tooru closed his eyes.

 

“This is crazy,” he whispered.

 

“Probably,” Kuroo agreed. “But I’ve never been exactly sane.” Tooru chuckled.

 

“Then, Kuroo Tetsurou, welcome to crazytown.”

 

-

 

The next few days came and went and Friday rolled around again, and Tooru found himself having the time of his life.

 

Hanamaki evidently had the day off from doing whatever it was he did for a living, and as always he spent that day off at the coffee shop. He shared a table with Suga who was groaning over the comments he’d gotten from his editor, and he kept shooting loaded looks across the shop at Akaashi. Tooru, who was working the counter that day, was caught in the crossfire of most of those looks and he could not be more delighted.

 

“You do know that Iwa-chan doesn’t speak Significant Look, right?” he asked as he stepped up next to Akaashi to hand a customer her drink. “You two are going to have to be a little less subtle than that.” Akaashi placed his palm gently on Tooru’s face before shoving him away. He stumbled into Asahi, who righted him with a roll of his eyes.

 

“No one asked for your commentary, Oikawa-san,” Akaashi said smoothly. Tooru grinned.

 

“Hey, Makki, want my commentary?” he shouted across the now-empty shop.

 

“Of course,” Hanamaki shouted back.

 

“You should stop dancing around and be blunt with Iwa-chan!”

 

“Okay!” Akaashi slapped a hand over his face and groaned.

 

“Oikawa-san, could you please not give him ideas?” he muttered. Tooru smiled sweetly and patted Akaashi on the shoulder.

 

“I could do that, Aka-chan,” he hummed. “Or I could make Makki and Iwa-Chan’s lives every bit as miserable as they have collectively made mine. It’s not my fault you got caught up in all of it.”

 

“Got caught up in all of what?” asked Iwaizumi, coming from the kitchen with a tray of bagels. Oikawa opened his mouth and took a dramatically deep breath, but Akaashi elbowed him in the gut before he could say anything. Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at Tooru, who collapsed in a coughing fit on the floor, and started filling the case.

 

“That was mean, Aka-chan,” Tooru wheezed. “Iwa-chan, tell your lovers to stop picking on me.” Iwaizumi turned bright red and dropped the tray he was holding. He cursed and rushed to pick it up.

 

“They’re not my lovers, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi growled. Tooru raised an eyebrow.

 

“Not for lack of trying,” Akaashi muttered, so low that Tooru was pretty sure he was the only one to hear it. He looked across the store to Hanamaki, raising his eyebrows and nodding pointedly toward Iwaizumi. Suga leaned across the table and slapped him on the shoulder, and he stood with a grumble. Tooru watched with barely-contained glee as Hanamaki crossed to the counter.

 

“Iwaizumi,” he said. Iwaizumi put the last of his bagels back on the tray and stood.

 

“What’s up, Makki?” he asked. Hanamaki seized him by the shirt and dragged him halfway over the the counter. Tooru enjoyed the dumbfounded look on Iwaizumi’s face as Hanamaki smashed their lips together.

 

It wasn’t a pretty kiss, nor did it look all that comfortable. But Hanamaki sighed into it, lingering for a long second before he released Iwaizumi at last. Iwaizumi looked up at him, mouth open to question, but he never got the chance to say a word before Akaashi was grabbing the back of his shirt and dragging him back to the other side of the counter.

 

“Akaashi, I- he- I-” stuttered Iwaizumi, his eyes wide and face flushed. He looked terrified as Akaashi bent down and planted his own kiss on Iwaizumi’s lips. Iwaizumi whimpered and tilted his head, one hand coming up to clutch at Akaashi’s apron. Akaashi pulled away with a self-satisfied smolder. Iwaizumi blinked, his mouth still hanging open.

 

“About time,” muttered Asahi. Tooru snorted and nodded.

 

“Well, that was… something,” said Daichi from the doorway. “Against the rules, since you’re both on the clock, but it was entertaining to say the least.”

 

“Sorry, Sawamura-san,” said Akaashi, not sounding sorry at all. Hanamaki only grinned.

 

“Um, Dai-chan?” asked Tooru. Daichi grunted in acknowledgment. “I don’t think Iwa-chan’s breathing.” Iwaizumi managed to look at Tooru, but he didn’t glare and he didn’t curse or threaten. As much as Tooru was enjoying the break, it was a little concerning not to fear a coming headbutt.

 

“Iwaizumi?” He turned to look at Daichi when called, the same baffled expression still painted across his face. Daichi snorted and shook his head. “All right, Akaashi take him home,” he said. “And take Hanamaki with you. He’s loitered enough for one day.” Akaashi nodded and pulled off first his apron and then Iwaizumi’s pausing to hang them before he tugged Iwaizumi around the counter. They met a grinning Hanamaki, and left the shop in silence.

 

After a long moment, Asahi turned to the shop’s other occupant. “Suga?” he asked. Suga grinned and held up his phone.

 

“I got the whole thing,” he said.

 

“I love you,” murmured Tooru. Suga only grinned wider.

 

-

 

Tetsurou arrived at the cafe at eleven-thirty on Sunday in a mild panic. He glanced around furtively and, once he had confirmed Oikawa was nowhere to be found, darted up to the counter. Kageyama and the bald guy gave him matching startled looks.

 

“Hey, Scowly, I need a favor,” he said.

 

“Hello, Kuroo-san,” Kageyama droned.

 

“Okay, yeah, not from you,” Tetsurou decided. “Go get one of your roommates. Freckles or Yacchan, not Shrimpy.” Kageyama shrugged and slouched off into the kitchen.

 

“Dude, why are you so flustered?” asked Baldie. Tetsurou squinted at him.

 

“Hamada?” he asked.

 

“Tanaka,” replied Baldie. Tetsurou nodded.

 

“Tanaka, my friend, have you ever been on a date with someone who was entire universes outside of your league?” he asked. The tips of Tanaka’s ears turned pink.

 

“Sort of,” he admitted.

 

“Then you know exactly what has me so flustered,” Tetsurou said. Tanaka stared at him blankly for a moment, then burst out laughing.

 

“You think _Oikawa_ is out of your league?” he wheezed. “Oikawa’s league is grannies and conspiracy theorists who never shower.”

 

“If you say so,” Tetsurou muttered. “Have you _looked_ at the guy?”

 

“Yeah, and I’ve seen him before his beauty routine,” Tanaka said. “Trust me, dude, you’re fine.”

 

“Kuroo-san?” Tetsurou looked up to see Yamaguchi stepping out of the kitchen with a doting look on his face. “What’s the crisis this time?”

 

“Freckles,” whined Tetsurou. “Freckles, I have a date with an angel and I’m dirt.” Yamaguchi gave him a motherly smile.

 

“Oikawa-san is every bit as nervous as you,” he said. “He’s hiding in the walk-in right now because he knows you’re out here and he’s suddenly convinced he looks horrible.”

 

“Freckles, _I_ look horrible,” Tetsurou cried. Yamaguchi chuckled.

 

“You both look fine,” he said. “Yacchan’s bringing him out now, and the two of you are going to have a perfectly fine date, and then you’re going to go back to work and over-analyze everything to Tsukki and he’s going to come back here to do the same with us, and in a year’s time you’ll both look back and laugh in that way disgustingly cute couples do and everything will be fine.” Just as he finished speaking, Oikawa came tumbling out of the kitchen door. He caught himself on a counter and looked up, wide, terrified eyes latching on to Tetsurou.

 

“Um. Hi,” Tetsurou said. Oikawa swallowed hard.

 

“Hey,” he replied. Tetsurou vaguely registered the ding of the bell above the door. Oikawa was still staring at him.

 

“You look-” he started, but couldn’t finish, too busy being elbowed out of the way by an old woman half his height. She toddled up to the counter and slammed a strip of paper down.

 

“Young man, I want a large coffee with caramel, cinnamon, and two packets of sugar and a banana muffin,” she said.

 

“Of course, ma’am,” said Yamaguchi, smiling sweetly at her. He handed a cup to Tanaka. “That will be four hundred and fifty yen.” The woman scoffed.

 

“I have a coupon, young man,” she snapped, jabbing her finger at the paper on the counter. “Free muffin with the purchase of any coffee. It says so right there.”

 

“Yes, ma’am, it does, but this coupon was a promotion from our fifth anniversary celebration,” Yamaguchi said. “It expired three years ago.” Tetsurou watched in awe as the woman huffed and drew herself up to her full - unimpressive - height.

 

“Young man,” she said again, her voice like ice. “Are you telling me you would deny my right to basic goods and services?”

 

“No ma’am,” Yamaguchi said, his face the picture of confusion, “I would love to get you your muffin and coffee. I just can’t accept that coupon.”

 

“I am a paying customer!” roared the woman. “I have rights! I demand to speak to your manager. And not only do I want the free muffin, I expect a discount on this whole order, young man, or I will post a review on yo-”

 

A soft touch on Tetsurou’s elbow pulled his attention away from the ranting woman. Oikawa stood at his side, his face plastered in a soft, accommodating smile that all customer service workers seemed to have. Without a word, the two of them crept out of the patiserie.

 

“I’m sorry about that,” Oikawa said once they were outside. His smile dropped and he looked at Tetsurou with genuine apology on his face.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Tetsurou replied. “I feel more sorry for Freckles than anything else.” Tetsurou snorted.

 

“Yama-chan can handle her,” he said. “He’s got this way of convincing people that they want what he wants.”

 

“That would explain how he’s got Tsukki wrapped around his finger,” Tetsurou commented. “They’re cute together.”

 

“Really?” Oikawa said. “I thought Yama-chan was dating Yacchan.”

 

“No, I think she’s dating Shrimpy.”

 

“I thought Chibi-chan was with Tobio-chan.”

 

“I don’t know who Scowly’s dating. But I’m certain Yamaguchi’s with Tsukki.”

 

“Are you sure? I saw Glasses actually cuddling with Chibi-chan once.”

 

“Come to think of it, I thought I caught Scowly with Freckles one time.”

 

Oikawa burst out laughing. “I’m sorry,” he wheezed. “You just, you look so confused.”

 

“I am confused!” Tetsurou cried, but could feel the smile stretching across his face. Oikawa had a really nice laugh.

 

“No one knows for sure who’s dating whom,” he said. “We have a betting pool at the cafe, but no one can figure it out.” He looked around them, eyes bright and curious. “Where are we going, anyway?” Tetsurou grinned and tugged Oikawa over to a train station.

 

"I hope you didn't have any plans for today," Tetsurou told him, swiping his card for the both of them. "It's a bit of a journey."

 

-

 

Tooru hadn't expected a train ride out to the suburbs, but he found himself enjoying it nonetheless. They took the train out to Saitama and Kuroo pointed out landmarks along the way. Some of them were historical sites or tourist attractions, but more had to do with Kuroo's childhood.

 

"I can't imagine having grown up here," he said during a lull while Kuroo looked fondly out the window. "Iwa-chan and I lived in the countryside outside of Sendai until we finished high school."

 

"I expect it wasn't that different," Kuroo said. "I didn't go into the city proper all that often. Kenma doesn't like crowds."

 

"The pudding head?" Tooru asked. Kuroo smiled, the kind of smile that was reserved for someone special.

 

"Yeah. We were neighbors growing up. He was the only other kid my age in the area." Kuroo laughed softly to himself. "I'm sure he hated me at first. He doesn't really like people, or doing things. He spent pretty much the first seven years of his life just him and his video games, then here comes this loud neighbor kid with obnoxious hair, dragging him out of the house and making him play volleyball with him. I even made sure he was captain of our high school team once I'd graduated."

 

"I didn't know you played," Tooru said. Kuroo looked at him at last.

 

"Not as often as I'd like," he said. "A couple of people from work play with me in a neighborhood league."

 

"What position?" Tooru asked. Kuroo smiled.

 

"Middle blocker," he replied. "And pretty damn good if I do say so myself. My buddy Bokuto was the number four ace in the country when we were seventeen, and I've blocked for him since high school. What about you?"

 

"Setter, until my knee blew in college," Tooru answered him. "I can still play, but nothing like I used to."

 

"That's too bad," Kuroo said. Tooru shrugged.

 

"It was a happy accident," he said. "It had gone out once before, in high school. Really, it was only a matter of time, and if I had gone pro before it went, I probably never would have started baking."

 

"And then where would we be?" Kuroo asked. Tooru smiled.

 

The speaker overhead announced the next station and Kuroo grinned and dragged Tooru to the door by the elbow.

 

"Slow down!" Tooru cried through his laughter.

 

"Not a chance!" Kuroo said. "We're almost there! I don't want to miss it!"

 

"Miss what?" Kuroo didn't answer, just dragged Tooru through the streets. It was a nice suburban neighborhood, a bit on the old side and peopled with families and older couples. Kuroo dragged him to a stop just outside a shop window splattered with brightly-colored advertisements. "Kuroo-chan, what are we-"

 

"Look," Kuroo interrupted. He pointed to the opposite side of the intersection they were standing at, where an old man stood with an easel. He set up the easel and stood with his back to them, and as Tooru watched he began to paint.

 

"He does this every day at one-thirty," Kuroo said. "It only ever lasts five minutes, and it's always a flower. Then he leaves the painting on that doorstep there, so that when the woman who lives there comes home, there's a new painting for her."

 

"She must have a lot by now," Tooru commented. Kuroo nodded.

 

"She gives most of them away," he said, "to the hospital, or people on the street. It always makes them happy, and I think that's why he does it." As they watched, the man finished his painting and stepped away. It was a single calla lily, identical to the one in the window box in front of him. The man took the canvas off the easel and propped it against a door, the look on his face tender. Then he packed up his things and walked away. Kuroo took Tooru by the elbow again and started walking.

 

"The restaurant is right up here," he said, gesturing to a little shop at the end of the street. "It's run by an old friend of the family."

 

"Why are you showing me all these things?" Tooru asked. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kuroo rub at the back of his neck and look askance.

 

"You showed me that garden," he said. "I figured it's not a place you show a lot of people, or else it'd be busier. So it's only fair if I show you some parts of me as well." Tooru bit his cheek, drowning in the rush of warmth to his face. He followed Kuroo into the restaurant without reply.

 

It was a cute little family place, the kind with mismatched chairs and cheap tablecloths, the kind of place that always smelled like dessert. Working in a bakery himself, Tooru could appreciate what it took to keep that smell lingering. Kuroo waved to the girl standing at the front and led Tooru to a table in a quiet corner. The girl came over a moment later with drinks and a menu for Tooru.

 

"Thanks, Ayume," Kuroo said.

 

"I take it you want the usual, Tetsu-kun?" Ayume asked. Kuroo nodded. "Then I'll be right back to take your friend's order." She wandered off with a smile. Tooru looked at his menu.

 

"I've never been to a western diner," he confessed, eyeing the foreign names with suspicion. "I don't know what's good." Kuroo leaned over to read over his shoulder.

 

"I always get the fish and chips," he said. "But if you're not into fish, then the chicken caeser salad is good, too. So are their burgers, but you don't really strike me as a burger type." Tooru grinned.

 

"Not since I bet I could eat more of them than Iwa-chan in middle school," he said. "I got through six."

 

"Impressive," Kuroo said. Tooru laughed.

 

"Iwa-chan ate nine. And then he still had three helpings of agadeshi tofu for dinner that night."

 

"This Iwa-chan guy sounds terrifying," Kuroo said.

 

"He is," Tooru agreed. "He's the scariest person I've ever met, inside and out. But he's also a huge nerd. He's a lot like you, actually."

 

"Are you saying I'm scary?" Kuroo asked.

 

"At first glance," Tooru said. "You are an imposing figure. But underneath, not so much."

 

"I'll have to work on that, then."

 

"You shouldn't," Tooru said. "I don't meet a lot of genuinely kind people, you know. It's nice." Ayume walked up as Kuroo turned red. Tooru placed his order with a smile and a wink, and she walked away without a hint of concern for Kuroo. "What's the story there?" Tooru asked.

 

"The story where?" Kuroo didn't meet his eye.

 

"The story between you and that waitress," Tooru said. "It's all right, you can tell me. I'm just curious."

 

"We're old friends," Kuroo told him.

 

"And?"

 

"...And we pretended to date once." Tooru stared at him.

 

"Pretended to date?" he asked. Kuroo ducked his head.

 

"She was in this fight with her father about who she could and couldn't be," he said. "He told her she would never find a respectable boy to marry if she kept hanging around with her friends, who were all musicians and artists. She asked me to pretend to be her boyfriend, to prove him wrong since even though I looked like a total delinquent, her family all knew I was a straight-a student on my way to business school. And it wasn't like I had nothing to gain from being seen with a girlfriend, so I said yes."

 

"So what happened?" Tooru asked.

 

"We broke up right after graduation and kept in touch after," he said. "She works here part time to support her band. I think they actually just got back from a tour."

 

"Do they ever come to Tokyo?" Tooru asked.

 

"Nah, they're not that big yet. They're good, though. I'll burn you a cd when I get home." Kuroo grinned, and Tooru couldn't help but smile in response.

 

The rest of the lunch passed in much the same way. People came and went from the restaurant, some that Kuroo knew and some that he didn't. Those he did always stopped to say hello or ask how he was doing, and he told Tooru how he knew each of them. He told Tooru a hundred stories about his past, each one ordinary and utterly wonderful. He told Tooru about the women he’d lived with, about his mother and sister and aunts and crowd of cousins and neighbors who always seemed to be around. Tooru found himself watching his lips as he talked. He tried not to, tried to keep his eyes on Kuroo's hands, or his expression, or the light in his gaze, but he kept being drawn back in to the shape of his mouth as he talked, or laughed, or smiled. Once or twice, Kuroo caught him looking and he ducked his head, staring at his plate instead until the stories started back up, and he was pulled in again.

 

By the time Tooru realized time was passing, the meal was done and Kuroo was dropping some bills on the table and leading him out of the restaurant and back to the station.

 

"Is it okay with you if I just drop you here?" Kuroo asked. "I promised my mom I'd meet her for dinner, but if you want me to ride back with you I can."

 

"It's fine," Tooru said.

 

"Are you sure? I don't mind-"

 

Tooru leaned up and pressed his lips gently to Kuroo's.

 

"It's fine," he murmured. "Thank you for today." Kuroo nodded dumbly and Tooru slipped onto the station and around a wall.

 

As soon as he was out of sight, Tooru collapsed onto a bench, his knees too shaky to hold him. He let out a stuttering breath and pressed his fingertips to his lip, still tingling from the kiss. The train pulled up and Tooru boarded in a daze.

 

He was halfway home before he realized he was still grinning like an idiot. He grinned the rest of the way home.

 

-

 

Tetsurou walked into his mother’s house in a daze. He patted a cousin on the head and said hi to his sister, not really aware of what he was doing as he trailed into the kitchen and fell into his seat at the table. Kenma glanced up and frowned.

 

“I need you to sit at the other end of the table,” he said.

 

“What? Why?” Tetsurou asked.

 

“You’ve got that disgusting look on your face again,” Kenma said. “The one that you get whenever you talk to Oikawa.”

 

“Who’s Oikawa?” Tetsurou flinched at the sound of that voice, familiar and warm and the bane of his existence.

 

“He’s no one, Nee-san,” he sputtered. She gave him an unimpressed look to rival Kenma’s and took the seat on his other side, tossing her long black hair over one shoulder.

 

“Kenma, who’s Oikawa?” she asked without taking her eyes off of Tetsurou.

 

“Kuro’s boyfriend,” Kenma answered.

 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Tetsurou protested.

 

“Kuro’s boyfriend,” Kenma repeated.

 

“What’s he like?” Tetsurou groaned and dropped his forehead onto the table.

 

“Can we not have this conversation?” he asked.

 

“Tetsu?” She had that tone in her voice that had meant trouble for Tetsurou for as long as he could remember. “Are you _shy?_ _”_ Tetsurou didn’t answer, but he could feel his ears growing hot. She squealed in delight.

 

“Kiti!” called their mother from the kitchen. “Stop tormenting your brother and help me with this.”

 

“This conversation isn’t over, little brother,” she purred as she stood. She gave Tetsurou’s hair a ruffle and then she was gone, loping gracefully over to the stove where Tetsurou’s mother set her to chopping vegetables. Tetsurou sighed and propped his chin on his forearms.

 

“ _Are_ you shy, though?” asked Kenma. Tetsurou glanced at him, at the canny look in his eye and the knowing tilt to his smile, and hid his face once more.

 

“He kissed me,” he mumbled.

 

“Can’t hear you,” Kenma commented.

 

“He kissed me!” Tetsurou shouted. He regretted it immediately when his mother and sister stopped what they were doing to stare at him. Two of his cousins and an aunt poked their heads into the kitchen to join the staring.

 

“Who kissed you?” asked his cousin Chiyo.

 

“Is this that Oikawa person Kenma was telling me about?” asked his mother.

 

“The one who works at the bakery?” asked his aunt Tomoko.

 

“Tetsu’s got a boyfriend, Tetsu’s got a boyfriend!” chanted his cousin Nanami. Tetsurou began rhythmically thumping his forehead on the table.

 

“All right, everyone, out of the kitchen,” called Akemi. “We can all bother Tetsu about his new boyfriend after you’ve washed up.”

 

“Thanks, Mom,” Tetsurou grumbled. She chuckled.

 

“Get used to it,” she said. “Mayumi and Yoko are coming over for dinner, too, so you’re going to have to spill sooner or later.”

 

“There’s really not much to spill,” he said. “I took him to lunch over at Takashi-jiisan’s, and then I walked him to the station, and he kissed me and then left.” Tetsurou could still feel the tingling warmth where his lips had touched Oikawa’s.

 

“Tetsurou,” Kiti teased, “you’re blushing.” He stuck his tongue out at her, but the burning in his cheeks told him he wasn’t fooling anyone.

 

“You should see him when he gets off the phone at work,” Kenma said.

 

“Work?” repeated Tetsurou’s mother. “Tetsu, how do you know this boy?”

 

“He works in a cafe near our office,” Tetsurou said. “I’m usually in charge of placing the orders, and we got to talking, and we have a bunch of mutual friends since my PA’s roommates all work at the cafe, so we just, I don’t know. Started flirting.” He bit his lip and looked down at the table. “Today was our second date.”

 

“Hang on, which cafe does he work at?” Kiti asked.

 

“Green Leaf Patisserie,” Kenma answered. There was a wicked edge to his smile.

 

“ _That_ Oikawa?” she screeched. “The pretty one, with the fluffy brown hair and the legs that go on forever?”

 

“That one,” Kenma said.

 

“Wait, how do you know what he looks like?” Tetsurou asked.

 

“Tetsu, do you never listen to me?” she huffed. “Remember when I told you about the new salon I started working at a couple months ago, right across the street from the shop full of pretty boys and really good danishes?”

 

“Oh, god.” Tetsurou dropped his forehead to the table once more. Kenma gave him a consoling pat on the shoulder. This was going to be the worst night of his life.

 

He thought of the way Oikawa had smiled up at him, the way he had listened to all his stories, the way he had blushed wildly right before he had kissed him. He bit his lip to hold back a smile.

 

-

 

Tooru spent the entire train ride home screaming internally. He couldn’t believe what he had done, that he would just kiss a man he barely knew like that. He needed a reality check. He needed someone to slap some sense into him. He needed someone who would tell him what an idiot he was and how to fix it. He needed-

 

He needed Iwaizumi.

 

Iwaizumi had often called the spare key to his apartment a necessary evil, but when Tooru pulled it out of his pocket it felt much more like an open invitation. The lights were on, but Iwaizumi was nowhere to be seen. His shoes were in the entryway, however, so Tooru tugged off his own and wandered into the living room.

 

“Iwa-chan!” he called. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” There was a series of thumps and some muffled swearing from the direction of the bedroom. Tooru grinned as Iwaizumi came stumbling out, his hair a mess and his t shirt on inside-out.

 

“What the fuck do you want, Shittykawa?” he growled. Tooru’s smile slipped from his face.

 

“I-if this is a bad time, I can go,” he offered. Iwaizumi’s expression softened and he sighed.

 

“No, c’mon, you know it’s never a bad time,” he said. “What do you need?”

 

“I just got back from my date with Kuroo,” Tooru said as he flopped onto Iwaizumi’s couch.

 

“Was it that bad?” Iwaizumi asked. He picked up Tooru’s feet and sat, letting them settle in his lap.

 

“What? No,” Tooru said. “It wasn’t bad at all, it was the best day of my life, Iwa-chan.” Iwaizumi stared at him for a moment. Then he shoved him bodily off the couch.

 

“Get out,” he barked. Tooru blinked up at him from the floor.

 

“Iwa-chan, is everything okay?” he asked. Iwaizumi glared at him.

 

“Everything would be _perfect_ if you would get the fuck out of my apartment,” he growled.

 

“Iwa-chan wouldn’t kick me out,” Tooru said, folding his arms under his head. “Not when he knows I’m having a real crisis right now.” He must have looked really pathetic, because Iwaizumi sighed and slid off the couch to sit against it on the floor, his legs draped over Tooru’s.

 

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

 

“I kissed him,” Tooru whispered. Hearing the words fall from his own lips made them suddenly concrete, as though it hadn’t been real until that moment. He pulled his hands from under his head and slapped them across his face.

 

“Okay, so?” Iwaizumi asked. Tooru whined into his palms.

 

“So, I really like him, Iwa-chan,” he sobbed. “What if I just ruined everything?”

 

“I don’t think kissing a guy after a date is going to ruin anything,” Iwaizumi said.

 

“You can’t know that!” Tooru howled. “What if he thinks I’m too forward? What if he wants to take it slow? What if he thinks I’m easy?”

 

“What, because you kissed him?” Iwaizumi asked, his voice incredulous. Tooru nodded. “Jeez, Oikawa, this isn’t the dark ages. It’s okay to kiss someone.”

 

“But he’s got that whole ‘waiting for marriage’ feel about him, and I didn’t want to corrupt that,” Tooru said. “Besides, it’s something special. You shouldn’t just rush these things.”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Iwaizumi muttered. Tooru peeked through his fingers to see Iwaizumi glancing nervously down the hall toward his bedroom. Tooru narrowed his eyes, then gave a mental shrug. “Anyway,” Iwaizumi coughed, “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. If it really bothers him, he would say something and you’d know to avoid it in the future.”

 

Something about that curled uncomfortably in Tooru’s stomach.

 

“I don’t know, Iwa-chan, I’m worried I-” Tooru cut off at the sound of Iwaizumi’s bedroom door opening and footsteps making their way toward them.

 

“Hajime? What’s going on?” Tooru’s jaw dropped open. Akaashi stood at the mouth of the hallway, his hair mussed and his cheeks red, dressed only in a pair of low-slung sweatpants. At his shoulder stood an equally rumpled Hanamaki, dressed in nothing at all.

 

“Makki!” screeched Tooru, covering his eyes once more. “I can’t unsee that!”

 

“Oh, don’t act like it’s such an affront,” Hanamaki said. Tooru peeked through his fingers again to see Akaashi looking blankly straight ahead while Hanamaki grinned and Iwaizumi blushed.

 

“Well, since you guys are clearly, um, busy,” Tooru said, scrambling to his feet, “I’ll, um, just. I’ll go. Uh. See you tomorrow.” He kept his eyes down as he power walked to the door, stuffing his feet into his shoes and darting out of the apartment. He paused long enough to relock the door and shoot of an angry text.

 

ME: [I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR THAT IWA-CHAN]

 

He stuffed his phone in his pocket and strode off down the hall.

 

With Iwaizumi out of the question and Akaashi busy keeping him out, Tooru’s next option for advice was not his favorite idea. He was tempted to go back to his own apartment and stew rather than take it.

 

But he thought of Kuroo’s stunned expression after he kissed him.

 

He could endure any amount of I-told-you-sos to see that look again.

 

With a nod and a set of his shoulders, Tooru walked the six blocks to Asahi and Daichi’s apartment. He grinned at the doorman who let him in, too used to seeing Tooru stumbling in drunk with Asahi and Suga after their bi-weekly cocktail dates. He bypassed the crochety old elevator in favor of taking the stairs two at a time to Suga’s apartment on the third floor. He skidded to a stop in front of the door and knocked as obnoxiously as he could.

 

“Hang on, hang on,” laughed Asahi from the other side. The door swung open to reveal Asahi, grinning at him in his boxers. A trail of red marks stretched from behind his ear all the way down to one hip. Some of them had the clear shape of teeth marks. Tooru blinked at him, then turned and walked away. He smiled to the doorman again and pulled out his phone as he kept walking.

 

ME: [I’m coming over to your house so none of you had better be naked.]

 

ME: [Or partially naked.]

 

YAMA-CHAN: [Oikawa-san? What’s up, why do you need to come over?]

 

ME: [I’ll tell you when I get there.]

 

YAMA-CHAN: [Well I’m not home right now, but I will be in a bit. I don’t think anyone’s naked, but why are you asking?]

 

ME: [I’ve seen things today, Yama-chan. Terrible things.]

 

YAMA-CHAN: [Whatever you say OIkawa-san.]

 

YAMA-CHAN: [The others should be home right now so feel free to come over before I get there.]

 

ME: [You’re the best, Yama-chan]

 

Yamaguchi replied with a string of smiling emojis. Tooru grinned and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

 

Tooru hadn’t been to Yamaguchi’s house since the housewarming party, so it was a bit of a shock to find it clean and quiet. Tsukishima opened the door and stepped aside to let him in without question. Kageyama glared at him from the living room.

 

“What’s he doing here?” he asked. Tooru stuck his tongue out at him.

 

“He’s here for Tadashi,” Tsukishima said, flopping onto the couch next to Kageyama and picking up a game controller. Kageyama mirrored him and the sound of virtual battling blared from the tv.

 

“Tadashi’s not here,” Kageyama pointed out.

 

“He knows that,” Tsukishima said. “Are you doing this on purpose, or do you just suck?” Kageyama elbowed him in the ribs, and they kept playing. Tooru let out a heavy sigh and took the empty seat at the end of the couch. He watched Tsukishima annihilate the virtual enemies while Kageyama ran around picking up the supplies they dropped. Every now and then Kageyama would stop and make an impressive kill to save Tsukishima’s hide, but Tsukishima never seemed to notice. Tooru hid a grin behind his hand.

 

“What’s the grand king doing here?” Tooru looked up just in time to see Hinata launch himself across the room and into an empty armchair.

 

“He’s here for Tadashi,” Kageyama said as he sniped an enemy that was getting ready to brain Tsukishima.

 

“Tadashi isn’t here,” Hinata said.

 

“He knows that,” Tsukishima said. “Shouyou, grab a controller. This idiot’s going to cost us the level.” Hinata and Kageyama exchanged a look as Hinata stood and plugged in a third. He proceeded to do much the same thing Kageyama was, running around aimlessly until he had to subtly save Tsukishima. Tooru’s grin was getting impossible to hide.

 

“So what do you want with Tadashi, Oikawa-san?” asked Hinata.

 

“I was hoping for some advice,” he admitted. “Or at least someone to listen.”

 

“I can listen,” Hinata said. “I’m surprisingly good at that.” Tooru chuckled.

 

“All right, Chibi-chan,” he said. “So what would you do if you had just met someone, but you really liked them, so you did something really rash and now you’re afraid they’ll hate you forever?” He stared at the screen, aware of three sets of eyes staring at him.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you actually insecure,” Tsukishima commented. Tooru shrugged. He grabbed a pillow from the couch and tucked it against his chest, curling his legs up to hold it in place.

 

“I think I may have ruined everything,” he said.

 

“Well, what did you do?” Hinata asked. Tooru blushed and tucked his chin behind the pillow.

 

“I kissed him,” he muttered.

 

“What?”

 

“I kissed him,” Tooru shouted. “I kissed him on the second date, Chibi-chan, I ruined everything!”

 

“Wait, are we still talking about Kuroo?” Tsukishima asked. The game was forgotten, controllers abandoned on the coffee table. Tooru nodded, and Tsukishima burst out laughing.

 

“It’s not funny, Kei!” Hinata cried, throwing a pillow at Tsukishima’s head.

 

“It’s hilarious!” Tsukishima crowed.

 

“Glad to know my sexually assaulting your boss is so funny,” Tooru mumbled.

 

“You didn’t sexually assault him, you kissed him at the end of a date,” Tsukishima said.

 

“Doesn’t matter if they were on a date or not,” Kageyama said. “If it was an unwanted advance on Kuroo-san’s person, it could be construed as sexual assault.” Tooru blinked at Kageyama, stunned.

 

“He’s been reading Tadashi’s textbooks,” Kei said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “But look, I can guarantee he wanted it. If I know Kuroo, he’s probably stumbling around somewhere with his head in the clouds and a doofy smile on his face right now. Now, grab that fourth controller and help me save these two from themselves?” Tooru huffed and crossed to the entertainment center.

 

“You do realize they’re pretending to suck to make you feel better about yourself, right?” he muttered. Tsukishima didn’t hear him, but he did give him a puzzled look when Hinata threw another pillow. Tooru rolled his eyes and chose his character.

 

-

 

“Care to tell me why my house was invaded last night?” Tsukishima asked when Tetsurou strolled into the office on Monday, Kenma at his side.

 

“That depends, who invaded it?” Tetsurou asked. Kenma snickered at him and wandered off to his own desk.

 

“Your boyfriend showed up at right before dinnertime yesterday, invaded our couch, and started whining about how he somehow sexually assaulted you. Care to elaborate?”

 

“Are you asking me to kiss and tell, Tsukki?” Tetsurou asked. Tsukishima made a face.

 

“No, I know about the kissing,” he said. “I want to know why I know about the kissing.”

 

“Really? What did he say?” Tetsurou tried not to let on how eager he was, but the frown on Tsukishima’s face told him he failed.

 

“He didn’t say much of anything, it was more incoherent screeching,” Tsukishima said. “Do me a favor, make sure he doesn’t show up at my house again?”

 

“I make no promises, Tsukki,” Tetsurou said. He eased into his seat and propped his feet up on his desk. “We were planning on moving in. You’ve got space, right? It’s not like you actually use all those bedrooms.” Tsukishima turned white, then red. He leaned in close, using what little height he had on Tetsurou to his advantage.

 

“I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but I assure you that if you continue to insinuate it I will make your life very, _very_ difficult, do you understand me?” Tetsurou grinned.

 

“Anything you say, Tsukki,” he said. Tsukishima scowled and stood.

 

“And stop calling me Tsukki,” he snapped as he crossed back to his own desk. Tetsurou closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

 

It had been a long night of ribbing and interrogating. Kiti, once she had realized she knew who Oikawa was, had been determined to officially meet him and ‘welcome him to the family’. Tetsurou shuddered to think what that meant. Tetsurou’s mother had invited Kenma’s mother, Mayumi, and their neighbor Yoko over in addition to the nine women already in Tetsurou’s family. To say Tetsurou had been exhausted by the time he had gotten on the train headed for home was an understatement.

 

A buzz of his phone drew him back to the presence, and the sender of the message made him bite his lip to hold back a smile.

 

BLOWJOB ANGEL-VOICE: [I had a really good time yesterday.]

 

ME: [I did too]

 

ME: [Do you think we could do it again sometime?]

 

BLOWJOB ANGEL-VOICE: [I would love to]

 

BLOWJOB ANGEL-VOICE: [But]

 

BLOWJOB ANGEL-VOICE: [You’ll have to drag me away from your sister first.]

 

Tetsurou swallowed hard.

 

ME: [Whtever she told you, it’s a lie]

 

BLOWJOB ANGEL-VOICE: [So you mean you aren’t a good upstanding young man with a tender heart who just wants to do good in the world?]

 

BLOWJOB ANGEL-VOICE: [Or do you mean the bit about the cat pajamas?]

 

BLOWJOB ANGEL-VOICE: [Because that’s adorable]

 

ME: [Do me a favor, never talk to her again?]

 

BLOWJOB ANGEL-VOICE: [No way, she’s amazing!]

 

Tetsurou groaned and pulled open another conversation.

 

ME: [STOP TALKING TO HIM]

 

He didn’t have long to wait.

 

KITTY-NEESAN: [No way, little bro. This kid’s awesome.]

 

Tetsurou dropped his head onto his desk and wondered how much jail time he would get for murdering his sister.

 

BLOWJOB ANGEL-VOICE: [By the way, I heard about this performance that Yama-chan’s dance troupe is putting on that you and I aren’t supposed to know about. Wanna go?]

 

Tetsurou glanced up at the angry line of Tsukishima’s shoulders and grinned.

 

ME: [You know me so well]

 

Oikawa texted him the details for their next date. Tetsurou couldn’t stop grinning as he dropped his phone into a drawer and pulled up a project to go over.

 

Still, something kept niggling at the back of his mind, a feeling that he had missed something important. He shook his head and resolved to call and ask Oikawa about it soon. For now, there was work to be done.

 

-

 

Tooru flopped down in his favorite spot on the couch, pajamas on, hair pulled back to keep it out of his facial mask, pillow clutched to his chest, and waited for Iwaizumi to start the movie. Their monthly movie nights were a tradition that they had not broken since middle school, though at one point they had been weekly. Still, on the first day of every month, Iwaizumi showed up at Tooru’s apartment without fail, movies and microwave popcorn in hand. This month they were watching as many hokey 60’s and 70’s alien movies as they could until they fell asleep.

 

Tooru knew it was an apology for what he had walked in on the last time he gone to Iwaizumi’s apartment. He decided to take advantage of it while he could.

 

“You’re in for a treat, Iwa-chan, this one’s a classic!” he said, wriggling his toes under Iwaizumi’s thigh. Iwaizumi adjusted to give him more room to burrow, then glared at him.

 

“We watched this movie every day for two weeks in elementary school,” he said. “I’ve seen it before.”

 

“Shhh,” Oikawa hissed. “It’s starting.” Iwaizumi gave him an indulgent smile and fell silent.

 

They were right in the middle of the scene where the heroine’s love interest revealed himself to be an alien invader when Tooru’s phone went off. He frowned at it, offended that it would dare interrupt his favorite part, but paused when he saw the contact.

 

“Iwa-chan, hit pause,” he said. Iwaizumi gave him a confused look and did as he said. Tooru picked up the phone. “Hello?”

 

“Oikawa! Sorry, I didn’t think you’d answer,” Kuroo said sheepishly.

 

“What’s wrong, Kuroo-chan?” Tooru asked.

 

“Sorry, I thought it was movie night,” Kuroo said.

 

“It is, but if something’s wrong I can talk for a bit,” he said. He glanced at Iwaizumi, who nodded. “What did you need?”

 

“Shit, I planned to leave a message,” Kuroo said. “I didn’t prepare for actually talking to you.” Tooru smiled.

 

“Do you want me to hang up and then not answer so that you can?” he asked.

 

“Could you? Sorry.” Tooru shook his head fondly. He said goodbye to Kuroo and ended the call. When it rang again, he turned the sound off, letting it go to voicemail like he had promised. He nodded at Iwaizumi, who raised an eyebrow.

 

“Do you want to listen to that first?” he asked. Tooru hummed.

 

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t important enough for him to tell me the first time,” he said. “He planned for me to spend the whole evening with you, so I will.” Iwaizumi shrugged and hit play on the movie. Tooru’s phone sat forgotten for the rest of the night.

 

It was sometime after ten the next morning when Tooru remembered it. Iwaizumi had already left for his shift at the cafe, leaving Tooru alone in his apartment with his thoughts.

 

He and Kuroo were supposed to go to the performance in two days. Had he been calling to cancel? To say that he didn’t want to go with Tooru after all, that he didn’t want to go anywhere with Tooru ever again?

 

He shook his head. All those years of self-doubt were getting to him again. There was no way to know what Kuroo had wanted unless he sucked it up and listened to the message. He took a deep breath and held the phone up to his ear.

 

“ _Hey, sorry about freaking on you. I just, I had this whole script, and when you answered it kind of slipped out of my head, you know?_ _”_ Tooru smiled at the nervousness in Kuroo’s voice, though a part of him was still terrified. “ _Anyway, I can_ _’t remember it now, so I guess I’m just gonna wing it._

 

“ _I really, really like you, Oikawa. Like, way more than I probably should at this point. But I got the feeling that you were upset about something? And I just, I just wanted you to know that if I do anything to make you uncomfortable, well, it’s not what I want. I want you to be happy. I guess I’m trying to say that I really want this to work out, and I’ll go at any pace you need._

 

“ _So, this is the most mortifying thing I’ve ever done, and I’m pretty sure I’m almost out of time, so I’m just gonna leave it at that. Call me sometime, if I haven’t you know, completely ruined everything with this message. Oh god. Okay. Yeah. Bye.”_

 

Tooru blinked, a little surprised at the stinging in his eyes. He wiped a hand across his cheek, and it came away wet. His fingers trembled as he hit the call button. He listened to the rings for a moment before it switched to Kuroo’s voicemail.

 

-

 

Tetsurou fiddled with his cuffs nervously. Oikawa had said that it wasn’t an especially fancy affair they were attending, but he had still wanted to look nice for it. He wanted to look nice for Oikawa. So he had spent the better part of the afternoon whining and digging through his closet while Kenma lay slumped on his bed, watching him with that unimpressed look of his. He still wasn’t sure that his outfit was good enough, but he had run so close to crunch time that he hadn’t even had time to do more than run a quick comb through his hair.

 

In his panic he had arrived ten minutes before they had agreed to meet. Ordinarily it wouldn’t have been a big deal, but it left Tetsurou with time to think, and that was never a good thing. He had been standing outside the community center where the performance was to be held, trying not to talk himself out of this. He was just about ready to turn around and act like he had never been born when he heard someone calling his name.

 

“Kuroo! Thank god, I thought I had given you the wrong address!” Tetsurou looked up to see Oikawa jogging toward him, and the entire world seemed to slow.

 

When Tetsurou was a little boy he had spent almost all of his time with his sister. Even after he and Kenma had become friends, most of his after school free time was taken up by her, watching all the sappy romance movies and Korean dramas they could get their hands on. He had seen romance countless times, had seen one lover running in slow motion into the other’s arms. But none of that could prepare him for this.

 

Oikawa’s hair was bouncing as he jogged, falling across his face and then sweeping away from his forehead. His cheeks were red and his clothes rumpled and he was breathing hard. His eyes were brighter than Tetsurou had ever seen them.

 

He was the most beautiful thing Tetsurou had ever laid eyes on.

 

“Kuroo-chan?” Oikawa frowned and waved a hand in front of Tetsurou’s face. “You okay in there?”

 

“S-sorry,” Tetsurou stuttered, blinking. “L-lost in thought.” Oikawa huffed and smiled at him, a fond light in his eyes.

 

“Well, don’t get too lost in there,” he said. “You’re supposed to be spending time with me, remember?” Tetsurou shook his head and took Oikawa’s hand.

 

“How could I possibly forget?” he asked as he led Oikawa into the theatre. Oikawa flushed and ducked his head as he followed Tetsurou inside.

 

Tetsurou supposed the performance was good. It was probably great. It could have been the most incredible thing he had ever seen, and he wouldn’t have noticed a second of it.

 

He was too busy staring at Oikawa.

 

In the dim theatre it was hard to make out more than vague shapes and shadows, but Oikawa was luminescent. What little of the stage lights that reached them kissed the planes of Oikawa’s face, highlighting his high cheekbones and the long, straight line of his nose. It glinted in his eyes, wide with excitement and wonder at the dancers onstage, and when he turned to glance at Tetsurou he swore they were filled with stars.

 

Not for the first time, Tetsurou wished they were alone. He ached to take Oikawa into his arms, to hold him close and revel in him and maybe kiss him, maybe kiss him a lot, but he knew he couldn’t. The audience may not have been paying them any attention, but it wasn’t a risk Tetsurou could take. Not when the old woman with her tiny grandchildren sat on Tetsurou’s right, and a pair of pregnant women were on Oikawa’s left. So he contented himself with staring.

 

He was so busy staring that he just about jumped out of his skin when Oikawa pressed their hands together. He bit down on his tongue to stifle a shout of surprise, wincing in pain. Oikawa smiled at him and twined their fingers together, turning back to the performance. Tetsurou focused on not exploding.

 

It was the best performance he had ever attended.

 

-

 

Tooru skipped out of the theatre, still holding tight to Kuroo’s hand. It had been good to get out and see something new like that, and knowing that the exceptional, slender dancer with the jaw-dropping solo was Yamaguchi just made it that much better. It had been a while since he had gone out for something other than cocktails with Suga and Asahi. He was just about ready to float away on this happy feeling when Kuroo tugged his hand and pulled him into an alley.

 

“Wha-” Kuroo shushed him with a stern look and a hand slapped over his mouth.

 

Tooru’s heart seized in his chest. Kuroo was strong, his arms and the grip of his fingers vice-like on Tooru. Five years ago, Tooru would have been able to match his strength, and more, but he hadn’t been to a gym since the day his knee blew. Kuroo glanced furtively around the alley, and Tooru closed his eyes and began to pray.

 

“Okay, I think we’re clear,” Kuroo said, releasing Tooru who crumpled to the ground. “Oikawa?”

 

“Please, don’t hurt me,” Tooru whimpered. “Please.”

 

“Oikawa, what’s going on?” Tooru could hear Kuroo shuffling, felt the air move when he crouched next to him. A hand settled on his shoulder and he flinched sharply. “Oikawa, I’m not going to hurt you,” Kuroo whispered.

 

Tooru heard him as though through water. The words were distant and muted. The hand had left his shoulder, but he could still feel its weight, settling like a brand on his skin. His throat closed, or else it ceased to exist, but he couldn’t breathe. There was too much happening, too many things vying for his attention. The sounds of the city around them, the feel of the dirty ground against his knees, the smell from the trash pile a few feet away, the sting of Tooru pulling at his own hair.

 

“Tooru.” Against logic, the sound of Kuroo saying his name filtered through Tooru’s chaotic thoughts. “Tooru, it’s okay. No one is going to hurt you. I’m going to make sure you’re safe, okay?” Somehow, Tooru managed to nod his assent.

 

Kuroo started moving, easing Tooru through a checklist of surroundings and body parts. He spoke softly, telling Tooru what he was doing as he did it. By the time he was done he had Tooru curled loosely in his lap, breathing deeply to the rhythm of Kuroo’s counting, one hand smoothing up and down his back. The panic eased and left Tooru exhausted in its wake.

 

“You okay?” Kuroo asked quietly. He handed Tooru a tissue. Tooru nodded.

 

“Sorry,” he whispered. His voice was ragged and his throat stung with the effort. “I- I don’t know what happened.”

 

“Would you like me to tell you?” Kuroo asked. Tooru nodded. “You had a panic attack,” Kuroo said. “I think I triggered it by pulling you in here. I’m sorry.”

 

“I had a what?” Tooru croaked. Kuroo’s frown deepened.

 

“A panic attack. Have you never had one before?” Tooru shook his head and Kuroo sighed. “Shit. Okay. Do you live with anyone?” Tooru shook his head again. “Okay. How about Iwaizumi? Could you stay with him for the night?”

 

“Iwa-chan has the late shift today,” Tooru whispered. Kuroo sighed again.

 

“Okay,” he said. “Do you think you can stand? We need to get you somewhere safe.” Tooru nodded. He still wasn’t sure what was going on, and his body felt weak and shaky, but if Kuroo was telling him he had to stand then he would try.

 

Kuroo led him out of the alley slowly, his arm around Tooru's shoulders. He held him stiffly, as though he wasn't sure if it was okay to touch him but he couldn't think of anything else to do. Tooru felt bad about that.

 

"Okay, the station's not too far," Kuroo was saying. Tooru only nodded and let Kuroo lead him where he would. He was exhausted, and his thoughts were still too scattered. He could hear Kuroo talking to someone, maybe him or maybe into his phone, but he couldn't really make out the words. When the train arrived, Tooru sat in the seat Kuroo nudged him into and he leaned his head back against the window, his eyes slipping shut.

 

They were pulling into the third or fourth stop from where they started when Tooru realized he had no idea where Kuroo was taking him. It could have been somewhere safe, or it could have been another alley in a more deserted part of town where he could finish whatever it was he had been trying.

 

Tooru shook his head. Kuroo wouldn't attack him for no reason like that. There must have been something Tooru had missed, or something he had done to provoke it. He tried to think back over the day, but all his memories were hazy at best. Tooru frowned.

 

"Oikawa?" He looked up at Kuroo's voice, but didn't really acknowledge him. "Come on, we're here," he said. Tooru nodded and stood, deciding it was safer to just follow Kuroo until he could figure out what was going on.

 

Kuroo led him down a few half-familiar streets, then stopped outside a door that part of Tooru recognized. There was a dull electronic ding when the door opened, and Tooru was immersed in the scent of coffee and baking things. His eyes flickered shut and the strength drained out of his legs.

 

"Oikawa!" People were shouting, voices as familiar to Tooru as his own but too mixed together for him to distinguish. Someone was holding him, cradling him against their chest and running their hand through his hair. Someone was yelling obscenities, demanding answers and someone else was trying to give them.

 

"If he's really never had one before, then he absolutely should not be alone tonight." Tooru knew that voice. That voice was flirtation and messy hair, bittersweet coffee and flashing golden eyes. "I figured you would be the best person. You're a safe place for him."

 

"No, he's had them before." The second voice was even more familiar, flooding Tooru with thoughts of _home_ and _safe_ and _protection_. Just as Tooru was starting to put a name to the voice, it faded away along with its partner, and a third filled his world.

 

"Oikawa, sweetheart, I'm going to walk you out of this now," it said. "I'm going to ask some questions, and I need you to try your best to answer them, okay?" Tooru nodded. Or, at least, he thought he nodded. His head moved, but the action didn't seem connected to any conscious decision on his part. "Okay," said the voice. "I need you to nod yes or no. Do you know who I am?" Tooru nodded. "Can you tell me?" Tooru shook his head. "Do you know where you are?" Tooru shook his head. "Okay. I'm going to help you stand, and then we're going to go into another room. When we're there, I'm going to help with some sensory stuff. Is that okay with you?" Tooru nodded.

 

He opened his eyes - and this time he did it, consciously - and allowed the man attached to the voice to bring him to his feet. He leaned heavily against him, letting the strength in the arms around him take most of his weight. He followed the man through a double door and into a kitchen, past a girl standing at a sink, and through another door into an office. The man eased him down into a plush office chair and turned away from him, digging in a drawer. Tooru studied him, his broad shoulders and long dark hair, watching as he pulled a blanket out of the drawer. He was starting to connect again, starting to remember where this place was. The man draped the blanket around his shoulders and tucked it tight across his body, letting the soft fabric caress his skin. Slowly, letting Tooru track the motion, he reached up and began running his fingers through Tooru's hair again.

 

"Asahi," Tooru whispered. The man nodded.

 

"That's right," he said. "I'm Asahi, and you're Tooru. We're at the Green Leaf Patisserie, where we work. Do you have any questions?" Tooru frowned. He wasn't supposed to be at work today. He was supposed to be doing something, something to do with a coworker and a client who was more than a client.

 

"How did I get here?" Tooru asked at last.

 

"I don't know the details," Asahi said, "but Kuroo brought you in. You were on a date with him tonight, remember?" Tooru flinched.

 

"I don't," he said.

 

"That's okay," Asahi murmured, bringing his other hand up to cup Tooru's cheek. "It's okay. What matters is that you're safe now, and you know where you are." Tooru nodded. He did know. The attack was passing, leaving him exhausted, but sure of his surroundings. He inhabited his own body again.

 

"Is Iwa-chan here?" Tooru murmured. Asahi nodded.

 

"Do you want me to go get him?" he asked.

 

"Please," Tooru said. Asahi gave his hair one last ruffle then stood, leaving the room and closing the door quietly behind him.

 

Tooru looked around the office, letting his eyes catch on each object and give it a name. His mind was slow and soft around the edges, but it had no difficulty identifying the phone, the door, the filing cabinet, and each of the office supplies on Asahi's desk. He repeated the ritual with Daichi's across the room until the door opened again.

 

“Oikawa?” Tooru blinked slowly and looked over at the door.

 

“I’m okay, Iwa-chan,” he said softly. “I’m out of it.”

 

“Do you know what happened?” Iwaizumi asked, crossing the room to sit in Daichi’s desk chair. Tooru shook his head.

 

“Asahi asked me if I remembered, but the whole day’s gone,” he said. Iwaizumi nodded, rolling his chair over so that he could lean his head on Tooru’s shoulder.

 

“You had a date with Kuroo today,” he said. “You went to a performance by Yamaguchi’s dance troupe at the community center. You left the center together, and then Kuroo caught sight of Tsukishima and the others. He didn’t want to get in trouble for going to the performance, so as a joke he pulled you into an alley and covered your mouth. Apparently that triggered an attack, so he worked you through the panic, but you started to dissociate. He didn’t want you to be alone, but realized it was a bad idea to take you to his house if he caused it in the first place, so he brought you here. I had a talk with him while Asahi took you back into this office. You’re coming home with me tonight, to make sure it’s passed.”

 

“Is Kuroo okay?” Tooru asked. Iwaizumi shrugged.

 

“He’s pretty freaked out. He’s used to anxiety, but he’d never seen someone dissociate before. But he was mostly worried about you.” Tooru closed his eyes and leaned his cheek against the crown of Iwaizumi’s head.

 

“He probably never wants to see me again,” he murmured. Iwaizumi snorted.

 

“He wants to see you as soon as possible,” he said. “I told him I’d have you call him in the morning, promised three times before he would leave.”

 

“Really?” Tooru asked. Iwaizumi chuckled.

 

“Yeah. I guess he likes you or something. Can’t imagine why, though.” Tooru laughed, a weak and tentative thing. Iwaizumi sat up then, scanning his face carefully.

 

“You ready to go home?” he asked.

 

“Is your shift over?” Tooru replied. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes.

 

“Asahi would kill me if I stayed for the end of it instead of taking you home,” he said. “I’ll pick up the extra hours tomorrow or something.” Tooru’s argument died on his tongue when he noticed the genuine concern in Iwaizumi’s eyes.

 

“Okay,” he whispered, and began untangling himself from the blanket. “Let’s go home, Iwa-chan.”

 

-

 

Tetsurou blinked in surprise when the lights in the office flicked on. He peered around the lines of cubicles to see Fukunaga yawning and rubbing at one eye as he walked in.

 

“What time is it?” Tetsurou asked, more for himself than for Fukunaga, who jumped at the noise. He stared at Tetsurou with wide eyes, then turned to look at the overlarge clock hanging on one wall. 7:35. Tetsurou groaned and slumped back in his seat. He had arrived at nine, which meant he had worked through the night. Again.

 

Tsukishima was not going to be pleased.

 

Tetsurou slapped a hand over his face, trying to rub some life back into it. “If anyone asks, I got here a little early,” he called to Fukunaga as he stalked toward a bathroom. Not that anyone would ask him, but he felt better knowing his ass was at least a little covered.

 

In the men’s room he didn’t pause to look at himself in the mirror before turning the sink on as cold as it would go and sticking his head under the faucet.

 

“What am I doing?” he muttered to himself.

 

“Presumably ruining that shirt.” Tetsurou groaned at the sound of the last voice he wanted to hear.

 

“Tsukki!” he cried, whirling around to face his assistant and sending water spraying everywhere in the process. “What are you doing here so early?” Tsukishima raised an eyebrow.

 

“Making sure you haven’t done exactly what you did,” he answered. “Hitoka came home in tears last night because Oikawa had an episode in the cafe. And since I happen to know that he was with a certain superman complex yesterday, I figured you probably came straight here and haven’t gone home yet. Did I miss anything?”

 

“No,” Tetsurou sighed, letting his shoulders slump. “You pretty much got everything.” Tsukishima nodded and reached around him to turn off the tap.

 

“Okay then. Let’s go.” He grabbed Tetsurou’s wrist and started tugging him away.

 

“Go? Go where?” Tetsurou cried.

 

“I’m taking you home,” Tsukishima replied, tightening his grip as Tetsurou tried to escape. “You’re going to eat, and then you’re going to sleep, and I’m going to stay there to make sure you do.”

 

“Tsukki, no, we have to work,” Tetsurou protested. Tsukishima stopped at Tetsurou’s desk, raising an eyebrow at the computer. Tetsurou’s inbox was clean and his to-do list was entirely crossed off. He had even begun on work that wasn’t due for several weeks in his desperation.

 

“Today’s Friday,” Tsukishima said. “You’re going to take today and the rest of the weekend to rest. If Oikawa still wants to see you, that’s fine, but you’re not doing anything that requires more brain function than sitting on your ass and watching tv. Do you understand me?” Tetsurou nodded mutely. “Good. Now grab your stuff and let’s go.”

 

Tsukishima maintained his grip on Tetsurou all the way to the station. When the train arrived he shoved Tetsurou into a seat and stood in front of him, looming menacingly with the kind of scowl that worked to scare most people away. If Tetsurou had been more awake he might have smirked. But as it was the swaying of the train was starting to lull him to sleep and he couldn’t find the energy or the desire to do much more than let it.

 

Tsukishima woke him with a kick to the shin and a tug on his wrist. Tetsurou started, looking around in bewilderment.

 

“Get up,” said Tsukishima. “We’re here.” Tetsurou blinked at him in confusion and he snorted, stooping to haul Tetsurou to his feet. Tetsurou followed him numbly off the train and through the streets to his building.

 

He didn’t ask how Tsukishima had a key to his apartment, and frankly he didn’t care. All he cared about was that the couch was comfortable when Tsukishima shoved him down onto it and that whatever Tsukishima was doing in the kitchen smelled absolutely divine. He closed his eyes and let himself feel just how worn down he was.

 

“Eat.” Tetsurou opened his eyes to see Tsukishima holding a plate of curry under his nose. Tetsurou took it from him and he sat, watching with those sharp eyes as Tetsurou took a bite, then another. He didn’t turn his gaze away until the entire plate was clean. Then he took the plate away and stood, pointing toward the bedroom with a raised eyebrow and a sharp order of “Sleep.”

 

Tetsurou didn’t remember peeling himself off the couch, or stumbling down the hall or shrugging out of his clothes. He didn’t remember crawling into bed or falling asleep, only the sound of Tsukishima’s voice, muffled and soft from the living room and a dream about a boy with soft hair and bright eyes.

 

-

 

Tooru woke with no sense of time or place. His entire body was stiff and the pillow his face was smashed into didn’t smell like his own. He had the distinct impression that he had drooled all over himself, and that he had not showered before bed.

 

Which meant he had had another attack. Tooru groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, not ready to deal with that just yet. But the memories were drifting back to him, piecing together enough of a story that he couldn’t hide from it anymore. So he peeled himself away from the mattress and sat down, looking blearily around Iwaizumi’s bedroom. The sun slanting through the windows told him it was sometime after noon, and the silence in the apartment meant Iwaizumi was at work already. Tooru scrubbed a hand over his face and crawled out of the bed. He shivered as he padded out of the bedroom; Iwaizumi always kept his apartment freezing cold, something about saving on heating bills and Tooru being a wuss who needed to man up and put on a jacket if he’s that uncomfortable. With a scowl, he hustled into the bathroom, turning the shower on as hot as it would go. He paused only long enough to strip before stepping under the spray, watching the skin of his arms turn bright pink from the heat. For a moment he simply let himself stand there and feel it, then he picked up Iwaizumi’s body wash and set to scrubbing.

 

When he deemed himself clean enough to at least function somewhat, he turned off the shower and stepped out, tugging on a pair of Iwaizumi’s sweats but not bothering to dress beyond that. He wandered out of the bathroom with a towel over his head.

 

His phone was sitting plugged in on the kitchen counter, notification light blinking silently. Tooru hummed and scooped it up, padding over to the fridge. He glanced at it vaguely as he dug around for the carton of orange juice Iwaizumi always kept hidden, then almost bashed his head on the freezer doing a double take.

 

15 new messages.

 

_15._

 

Tooru unlocked his phone, opening the messenger app with a frown.

 

They were all from Kuroo.

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [Hey, are you doing all right?]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [Sorry, you’re probably asleep right now.]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [I just wanted to say sorry about what happened]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [God, I hate doing this over text, but I don’t want to wake you up]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [But anyway when you wake up, please let me know if you’re all right?]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [I’d call the bakery myself to find out, but Tsukki confiscated my phone and I’m texting you from my laptop. I’m surprised he hasn’t taken it away too.]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [Oh wait he password blocked all of my work programs. Great.]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [Somethinga bout working through the night and not giving myself enough time to rest after a stressful situation]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [What does he know?]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [Apparently a lot. He’s got me quarantined in my apartment and I can’t find any means of escape.]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [Yamaguchi’s babysitting me now.]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [He brought me some of the day-olds from the bakery, you know. Or I guess they’re two-day-olds, because you made them.]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [How the fuck do you bake like this?]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [Seriously this is food fit for gods.]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [Okay this is getting pretty damn excessive, so I’ll leave you alone now. Just. Let me know you’re okay when you wake up, okay?]

 

Tooru stared at his phone in disbelief. The last message was from just over an hour before, but by the time he got to the bottom, a little notification popped up saying that Kuroo was typing.

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [Hey, are you okay?]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [Shit, that was probably creepy. I just saw that you had read all that, and I figured]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [Nope, still creepy.}

 

Tooru bit his lip, unable to keep back a smile.

 

ME: [It might have been a little creepy, if it weren’t so cute.]

 

ME: [I’m fine, Kuroo-chan. Just tired.]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [Oikawa, I am so sorry about yesterday.]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [I had no idea you had any sort of anxiety problems, or I never would have pulled you into the alley like that.]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [I probably shouldn’t have done it regardless, but still.]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [I’m so sorry]

 

Tooru’s cheeks heated at the stream of messages. He could just picture Kuroo, a nervous look on his face as he babbled his apologies, desperate to make up for his mistake. He figured he should probably have been more surprised at the rush of affection that stirred in him.

 

ME: [You really have to stop worrying so much about it, Kuroo-chan. I’m fine.]

 

ME: [Sorry I ruined our date]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [You didn’t! Don’t ever feel like you have to apologize for somethign like that.]

 

Tooru leaned against the fridge, trying to calm his erratic pulse and the fluttering in his stomach. He took a deep breath and a risk.

 

ME: [Does your armed guard allow visitors?]

 

There was a bit of a pause, and Tooru tried not to panic. Then Kuroo’s answer popped up.

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [Do you mean that?]

 

ME: [Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [No reason.]

 

ME: [Kuroo-chan.]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [Really, don’t worry about it. And yeah, if you’re up to it, I would love some company.]

 

ME: [All right. Give me your address and an hour and I’ll be right there.]

 

Tooru smiled and set his phone down. He stretched his arms over his head, enjoying the pull for a moment, then moved to Iwaizumi’s bedroom in search of some clothes.

 

-

 

At times, Tetsurou wasn’t sure whether Yamaguchi was an angel or the devil himself. On the one hand, he refused to give Tetsurou his phone back, and had spent the past several hours teasing him mercilessly. But on the other, he mysteriously disappeared the exact moment Oikawa knocked on Tetsurou’s front door.

 

Tetsurou took one look at Oikawa, dressed in a baggy t-shirt and a pair of sweats, and decided that he didn’t care a bit about Yamaguchi or his moral alignment.

 

“Hey,” he whispered. Oikawa smiled nervously up at him.

 

“Hey yourself,” he said. He looked down, seeming to debate with himself about something. Tetsurou’s heart clenched with affection and guilt.

 

“Oikawa, I’m-” Tetsurou didn’t get to finish his sentence, too busy stumbling to catch his balance as Oikawa threw himself at him. He wrapped his arms around Tetsurou’s neck and clutched him close. He turned and suddenly they were kissing.

 

Tetsurou’s world narrowed to a single point. Absolutely nothing mattered, and nothing ever could, not when Oikawa Tooru was kissing him messy and off-center and absolutely perfect. Oikawa made a soft, almost pained noise into Tetsurou’s mouth, and the realization broke across him like a summer rain.

 

He loved Oikawa, loved him in the way old couples on park benches loved each other. Not with the flighty attraction of youth or the nervous affection of third and fourth dates, but with the kind of ardent devotion Tetsurou had always hoped existed outside of novels. He also realized in that moment that Oikawa was crying.

 

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, tightening his arms around Oikawa’s waist. Oikawa buried his face in Tetsurou’s neck and shook his head.

 

“I’m fine,” he said.

 

“You’re crying,” Tetsurou pointed out. “Baby, please tell me what’s wrong.” Oikawa pulled away then to smile at him, a thin, weak smile, but sincere nonetheless.

 

“I think I’m just tired,” he said. “But really, I’m okay.” Tetsurou nodded, reaching up absently to stroke Oikawa’s hair out of his face.

 

“Come inside,” he murmured, and Oikawa nodded. Tetsurou led him into the apartment and closed the door behind them before crouching in front of Oikawa.

 

“What are you doing?” Oikawa sniffed. Tetsurou smiled up at him even as he began untying Oikawa’s shoelaces. Oikawa blushed heavily, but he let Tetsurou take his shoes off and guide his feet into house slippers instead, and when Tetsurou stood and guided him into the living room, he went without protest.

 

“Do you want anything to eat?” Tetsurou asked. “Or drink, I guess? I don’t know how much I have, but there’s probably some green tea around here somewhere, or if we can find wherever Yamaguchi’s skulking we can make him go out and get something, or-” his rambling cut off at the sound of Oikawa laughing.

 

“I’m fine,” he said. “Honestly, I just wanted to see you.” For such a little phrase, it warmed Tetsurou’s entire body. He nodded and led the way over to the couch. Oikawa flopped gracefully, limbs spreading everywhere, and tugged Tetsurou down with him.

 

Oikawa turned on the tv, presumably to give them a cover, but then turned it almost all the way down as he climbed into Tetsurou’s lap. Tetsurou’s answering chuckle was muffled against Oikawa’s hair as he hummed and curled close, guiding Tetsurou’s arms to his satisfaction.

 

“Comfy?” Tetsurou asked. Oikawa hummed again.

 

“Sleepy,” he answered.

 

“Go ahead and sleep, if you want,” Tetsurou said.

 

“No,” Oikawa whined. “Wanna spend time with you.” Tetsurou’s chest went tight and he held Oikawa a little tighter.

 

“Sleep,” he repeated, but Oikawa was already gone.

 

-

 

Tooru woke warm and content. He was curled up on a couch, a pillow tucked under his head and a blanket draped over him and a familiar voice buzzing in the background. He yawned and stretched his arms over his head, enjoying the scent of Kuroo’s shampoo from the pillow and curry from the kitchen. He bit back a smile and threw the blanket off, bouncing to his feet.

 

As he got closer to the kitchen, Kuroo’s voice grew suddenly clear, and Tooru found himself slowing down to listen.

 

“Nee-san, is this going to take much longer?” he was asking. “It’s kind of hard to cook and fend off your inquisition at the same time.” There was a pause. “Yes, I’m making _him_ dinner. Who else would I be making it for? No, I never cooked for you because I don’t love you, not because I can’t. You know that.” Another pause, this one long enough that Tooru almost gave up and stepped into the kitchen. Then,

 

“Of course I love him, what kind of question is that?”

 

Tooru stopped breathing. His heart stopped beating, his mind stopped working, everything stopped existing but those words.

 

_Of course I love him._

 

_I love him._

 

_Of course._

 

Kuroo was still talking, bickering with his sister over something that couldn’t possibly matter, but Tooru couldn’t listen. He couldn’t do anything but stand there and die again and again.

 

Kuroo _loved_ him. Loved _Tooru_ , with all his hangups and insecurities and pretensions, loved him even after seeing Tooru fall apart in his hands like rice paper. And not only that, he told his sister that he loved him. For all his quips and protests, Tooru knew how much Kiti meant to Kuroo.

 

And for that matter, he knew what Kuroo meant to Kiti. What if she didn’t think Tooru was good enough for her brother? What if she hated him now? What if she talked to Kuroo, pointed out all of Tooru’s flaws and faults and shortcomings and Kuroo realized that he didn’t want to be with Tooru after all? What if-

 

“Oikawa?” Tooru’s pulse roared in his ears and he shook his head. The room swooped and spun around him, growing larger and smaller and Tooru was too big, too big for his skin or his bones, too small and too fragile and-

 

And arms were wrapped around him, holding him tight. Kuroo was murmuring things, soft things, gentle things, into Tooru’s ear, and Tooru was breathing.

 

“Sorry,” Tooru whispered. Kuroo shook his head.

 

“You don’t have to be,” he said. “Do you need anything?” Tooru shook his head, right as his stomach rumbled, loudly.

 

“I-” Kuroo interrupted him with a sweet chuckle.

 

“Dinner’s just about ready,” he said. “I was actually coming out here to ask if you wanted tea or beer with it.”

 

“Tea sounds good,” Tooru replied. Kuroo smiled into Tooru’s skin and simply held him for a moment. When he did pull away to return to the kitchen, it left Tooru feeling like he had lost something critical. He shook his head and followed him through the door.

 

Kuroo talked while he put the finishing touches on dinner, little nothings about his job and his cousin and the old woman who lived next door. Tooru sat at his tiny kitchen table and listened, not really taking in any of the things he was saying. Kuroo sat a laden plate in front of him with a smile that was all too knowing and took the other chair.

 

Tooru thanked Kuroo quietly for the meal, then took an absent bite.

 

It was perfectly decent curry. A little bland, like he had tried to cover the lack of actual spices with an excess of salt, and a little over done, but entirely edible. Tooru smiled to himself and took another bite. An image formed in his mind of a thousand meals just like this one, all prepared with love and little skill by Kuroo. Meals spent telling each other about their days, all the mundane things that had happened in the hours when they had been apart. Meals spent with their legs tangled together under Kuroo’s tiny kitchen table, eating in utter silence because they were both too tired for words but each ready to reassure the other that they were there and they were together. He glanced up at Kuroo, at the bit of rice stuck to his chin and the clip that held his bangs out of his face. He thought about the conversation that he had overheard, about the implications for a future, and felt none of the fear of before.

 

Kuroo looked up at him, a question in his eyes, and Tooru smiled.

 

“Thank you for this,” he said. Kuroo smiled in return, nudging Tooru’s leg with his foot.

 

“Any time,” he said, and Tooru had a feeling that he meant it.

 

-

 

Oikawa had been in Tetsurou’s house for two days. On Friday night, he had fallen asleep on the couch shortly after dinner, not even waking up when Tetsurou had shuffled him around and squeezed a pillow under his head. On Saturday night, Oikawa had simply taken a bath after dinner and pulled on a pair of Tetsurou’s pajamas without a word. Tetsurou had lain awake that night, wondering if he should have invited Oikawa into his bed or else insisted he’d gone home.

 

Now it was Sunday, and they were on the couch once more, chest-to-back with Oikawa between Tetsurou’s legs, rambling on about some new recipe he wanted to try while Tetsurou tried to ignore how warm and soft he was to touch.

 

“And Akaashi wants to use margarine in the filling, but I told him we should use shortening instead,” Oikawa said with a huff. “But of course he wouldn’t listen to me, so we’re going to make a batch of each and see which one goes over better, but I’m telling you, we could just save all that time by making mine in the first place and being done with it.” Oikawa fell silent long enough for Tetsurou to realize he was expected to reply.

 

“Why does Akaashi think margarine would be better?” Tetsurou asked. Oikawa waved a hand dismissively.

 

“Something about offering vegan options,” he answered. “But the thing is, since the glaze is white chocolate, it’s already dairy. If we used milk or dark, vegan would be an option, but it doesn’t make sense otherwise.” Tetsurou smiled and listened to Oikawa rant. He pressed his nose into the fluffy hair at the crown of Oikawa’s head and let his eyes slip closed.

 

“I love you,” he murmured. Oikawa’s tirade stuttered to a halt.

 

“You what?” he whispered. Tetsurou smiled.

 

“Oh, don’t start that,” he murmured. “I know you heard me talking to Nee-san on Friday. I know you already knew.”

 

“I-” Oikawa stuttered. He went tense in Tetsurou’s hold.

 

“Don’t be so nervous,” Tetsurou said. “I’m not expecting an answer or anything. I just wanted to tell you directly at least once before you go home.” Oikawa relaxed somewhat, leaning his head back on Tetsurou’s shoulder with a pout.

 

“I don’t wanna go back,” he whined. “Fuck the real world, anyway.” Tetsurou chuckled.

 

“Well, we still have a couple of hours before we have to go back to being real adults,” he said. “You wanna do something dumb and purposeless?”

 

“What did you have in mind?” Oikawa asked. Tetsurou only grinned and nudged him off of the couch.

 

He could feel Oikawa’s curious eyes on him as he began shuffling things around, shoving the couch out from the wall and dragging the coffee table to the other side of the room. He shot Oikawa a smile as he darted over to the linen closet just outside the room.

 

Oikawa burst out laughing when he returned a moment later with more supplies.

 

“A blanket fort?” he giggled, staring up at Tetsurou with unrestrained glee sparkling in his eyes.

 

“Why not?” Tetsurou asked, dumping his bundle of sheets onto the couch and pulling one off the top. “It’s probably the least grown-up thing we could do right now.”

 

Oikawa smiled, shaking his head. There was a fond set to his expression as he grabbed one end of Tetsurou’s sheet and began draping it over the back of the couch. Tetsurou grinned and together they set to work.

 

-

 

Tooru could feel Iwaizumi’s eyes on the back of his head as he hummed to himself, kneading a batch of dough. He turned to give his friend a grin and went back to what he was doing, ignoring Iwaizumi’s snort.

 

“Oikawa?” asked Asahi, leaning his hip against the counter and crossing his arms. “Do I want to know why you’re so happy?”

 

“You are all terrible friends, I just want you to know that,” Tooru said, reaching for a bin of blueberries. “Most people would be glad when their friend is in a good mood.”

 

“Most people aren’t friends with you,” Asahi answered. “I just need to know if I should be getting ready for any legal action.” Tooru flapped a hand in the air, waving away Asahi’s quip.

 

“I’m just happy, okay?” he said. Asahi gave him one last dirty look and walked away with a shake of his head. Tooru rolled his eyes and went back to his kneading. He listened to Iwaizumi shuffle awkwardly behind him and waited.

 

“Hey, Oikawa…” he said at last some time later. Tooru reigned in his smile a bit and turned to acknowledge him.

 

“What is it, Iwa-chan?” he said quietly. Iwaizumi grimaced.

 

“I just. I want to talk to you about something, and I don’t know how you’re going to take it,” he replied. Tooru wiped the last bits of dough off his hands with a frown.

 

“Iwa-chan, you can tell me anything, you know that,” he said. Iwaizumi made a face.

 

“I know,” he said. “I just don’t-” he cut off and scowled at his shoes. Tooru glanced at the clock then grabbed Iwaizumi by the arm, dragging him toward the back door. He pulled Iwaizumi onto the cramped back stoop and plopped down against the wall, patting the spot beside him. Iwaizumi grumbled, but sat down anyway. Tooru waited.

 

“I’m worried about you,” Iwaizumi said after an eternity of tense silence.

 

“How so?” Tooru prompted. “I promise, I won’t get upset.”

 

“Yes you will,” Iwaizumi grumbled. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Tooru knocked their knees together. “I’m worried about you and Kuroo,” he said, then closed his mouth with a click, turning his head away. Tooru was struck with the sense that it was because Iwaizumi was afraid to look at him.

 

“Is there more to that thought?” Tooru asked. Iwaizumi looked at him then away.

 

“I’m not sure he’s right for you,” he muttered.

 

“Iwa-chan, you’re gonna have to give me a little more than that,” Tooru said. “Look, you’re my best friend. I trust your judgment. But I need to hear some actual reasoning before I decide to make that sort of decision.”

 

“That’s the problem,” Iwaizumi sighed. “Nothing I have is really solid. I’m not asking you to dump him or anything, though. Just saying that I’m worried.” Tooru was silent for a moment.

 

“I appreciate you telling me,” he said. “Iwa-chan, I’m scared too.” Iwaizumi sat straight, staring at Tooru like he could pierce his skin and into his thoughts with just his eyes. Tooru wasn’t all that sure he couldn’t.

 

“Oikawa-” he began, but a shake of the head from Tooru cut him off.

 

“I’m not scared of him, exactly,” he explained. “I don’t think he would intentionally do anything to me. But I’m scared of what it might mean, if I stay with him?” He bit his lip and stared at his hands, tangled together on his lap. “It’s stupid, I know.”

 

“You love him.” The statement, and the awed voice with which Iwaizumi said it, made Tooru start.

 

“I- I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe. Probably.”

 

“Definitely,” Iwaizumi said. “Trust me, Shittykawa, I know what maybe and probably look like with you, and this isn’t it.” Tooru hid his face in his hands, unable to look at Iwaizumi.

 

“I don’t know,” he repeated, but the words sounded thin even to himself.

 

“Do you not know, or do you not want to know?” Iwaizumi asked. Tooru shook his head. With a sigh, Iwaizumi wrapped an arm around Tooru’s shoulders and pulled him close. “It’s okay to be scared,” he said. “You don’t have to make this decision today. Just take it easy for a while, until you’re more certain.” Tooru leaned into the embrace gratefully.

 

“Iwa-chan, you’d better be careful about how nice you are to me,” he said. “People will start to think you’re not a heartless brute, and we don’t want to deceive them like that.” Iwaizumi held him just long enough to betray his fondness before he shoved Tooru off the step. Tooru rolled his eyes as he pulled himself to his feet. Iwaizumi had missed the puddle of mud.

 

When Tooru pulled on his apron and stepped through the door to the main room, the cafe was in chaos. Yachi was close to tears, several patrons were looking confused and vaguely angry, Suga was cackling, and Akaashi was hovering a foot off the floor, held aloft by a man with outrageous black and white hair and even more outrageous biceps, all while Kuroo Kiti laughed in the doorway. Tooru hummed and leaned against the counter.

 

“Yacchan, any explanation to offer?” he asked.

 

“He just charged in and picked up Akaashi-san!” Yachi shrieked. “Oikawa-san, he’s going to kill him! What do we do?”

 

“It’s okay, Hitoka-chan,” Suga laughed, reaching around the espresso machine to pat her on the head. “It’s just Bokuto. He and Akaashi are old friends.”

 

“ _That_ _’s_ Bokuto?” Tooru asked, incredulous. He had heard of Akaashi’s former upperclassman, of course. Akaashi had even gone so far as to call Bokuto his best friend - after several drinks and a long round of truth or dare, but still. However, the man Akaashi had described had been someone brilliant, a mathematical genius who had snagged a job offer with one of Tokyo’s most prestigious environmental sciences companies when he returned from a tour with Japan’s national volleyball team. He had expected someone like Akaashi, someone quiet and collected, all classic knowledge and scathing wit.

 

Bokuto twirled in a circle, Akaashi still in his arms, shouting something about watercress. Tooru thought briefly about the duality of man.

 

At long last, Bokuto set Akaashi down and turned his attention to the rest of the shop.

 

“So Akaashi, who’s Oikawa?” he asked. Tooru stiffened, looking to Akaashi for answers. Akaashi merely smirked and pointed him out. Bokuto advanced with a terrifying light in his gold eyes, and it took everything in Tooru’s power not to shrink under his gaze.

 

“Can I help you?” he asked. Bokuto grinned, the predatory lines of his face dissolving into something more like an excited puppy.

 

“Man, you’re even cuter than Kuroo said!” he crowed. Tooru blinked up at him, not sure how to process what was happening. Before he could respond, there was a large, warm hand shaking his own, and Bokuto was talking again. “Like, he said you were cute and everything, wouldn’t really shut up about it, but I kinda thought he was making it up? Or at least exaggerating, y’know, because he likes you so much and everything. And I mean, I love the dude, but he’s a total disaster, so there was no way he could snag anyone above, like, a six without them, like, really knowing him first. But then I talked to Nee-san and she said you were cute too, so I figured I should come over here and check it out for myself!” He concluded with a proud grin that looked like it would split his face in half if he kept it up much longer. Tooru blinked.

 

“Kouta-kun, you’re overwhelming the poor boy,” called Kiti across the cafe. She sauntered up to the counter, looking like a cat closing in on a mouse. “Besides, my baby brother can pull in an eight, easily.”

 

“Yeah, but-” Bokuto said, looking significantly at Tooru, who only found himself more confused.

 

“Nee-san, what’s going on?” he asked. Kiti smiled sweetly at him.

 

“Kouta-kun is Tetsu’s friend from high school,” she explained. “He just got home from his press tour, and he wanted to meet you.”

 

“Kuroo won’t shut up about you!” Bokuto added, nodding wildly. Tooru thought back to the last press conference he had seen with the national team, and tried to reconcile this spiky-haired bundle of energy to the stoic man from the interviews. Suddenly, Bokuto being Kuroo’s friend made much more sense.

 

“He never really told me much about you,” Tooru admitted. “And from what Aka-chan told me, I expected something much different. But let me assure you, I am extremely pleased to meet you.” He leaned in with a grin, the implications of which seemed to go right over Bokuto’s head.

 

“Dude, me too,” he said. Tooru only grinned wider.

 

“And on that disturbing note,” Akaashi said, rolling his eyes and taking off his apron, “Bokuto-san we have to leave now if we want to catch our train.”

 

“Aw, Aka-chan, stealing him away so soon? We’ve only just met!” Tooru cried. Akaashi shot him a withering look and dragged Bokuto out of the cafe. Tooru chuckled and leaned his elbows on the counter.

 

“We’re going to have so much fun with him,” Suga commented. Tooru looked up to reply, but Suga’s eyes were fixed on something over Tooru’s shoulder.

 

Daichi was sitting at one of the corner tables, clearly on break. His newspaper was sitting unopened in front of him, his coffee gone cold in his grip, and his face bright red as he stared at the front door. Tooru felt his smile widen even more.

 

“You’re right, Suga-chan,” he said. “So much fun.”

 

-

 

Tetsurou was torn between ecstatic anticipation and horrid anxiety. He had gotten two texts in rapid succession, one from Bokuto and one from his sister, both promising visits later that day. He knew - he just _knew_ \- that his attempts to dissuade Bokuto from going to visit Oikawa hadn’t worked, and that the joy of seeing his friend again would be marred by all the teasing he was about to endure.

 

He was just contemplating throwing himself of the roof of his building when a series of knocks sounded at his door, some light and respectful, some sharp and forceful, and some booming and overexcited. Tetsurou groaned and pulled himself off the couch and over to the bed.

 

Before he could even get a hello out, he was wrapped up in large, warm arms and lifted off the ground. Elation flooded Tetsurou, warm and bubbly as he threw his arms around Bokuto’s neck and held on.

 

“Kuroo!” shouted Bokuto, spinning them around. Tetsurou laughed.

 

“Bo!” he shouted back. Bokuto set him down and pulled away, smiling brightly enough to blind Tetsurou. He smiled and pulled Bokuto in for another hug. “I missed you so much, man!”

 

“Disgusting.” Akaashi shoved his way past them, Kenma and Kiti following behind him. Tetsurou considered pulling away to reply, but Bokuto was warm and it really had been along time. He allowed himself another moment of the embrace before he let go and joined the others already making themselves at home in his living room. He flopped onto his couch, leaning to one side to allow Bokuto to flop half on top of him, then surveyed the assembly.

 

“So, who’s gonna tell me why you’ve all invaded my apartment?” he asked.

 

“Do we need a reason?” Kiti asked, laying a hand on her heart.

 

“Kenma and Bo don’t,” Tetsurou replied. “You, on the other hand…”

 

“Rude, baby brother,” she sniffed. “I’m only here because I missed your wonderful company. And I wanted to gossip about your boyfriend.”

 

“There it is,” Tetsurou mumbled. She grinned at him and kicked her feet up onto the coffee table.

 

“Seriously, though, bro, I do wanna get to know him better,” Bokuto said. “He seems like a cool guy.” Akaashi snorted and all eyes swiveled to him.

 

“No,” he said firmly. “If you want to know more about Oikawa-san, you’re going to have to find out yourselves. I’m only here because Bokuto-san needs a ride everywhere until he can get a new suica card.”

 

“Akaashi, you’re no fun,” Bokuto whined. Tetsurou bit back a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Bokuto with his life, he just didn’t want to scare Oikawa away. Or to find out that Oikawa didn’t like Bokuto. Or that Bokuto didn’t like Oikawa. Or a million other things that could go wrong if the two of them were unsupervised together.

 

“Bokuto, your new office is right around the corner from the cafe,” Kenma said, and Tetsurou’s heart sank.

 

“Thanks, Kenma,” he muttered. Kenma gave him a deadpan stare and a victory sign. “Anyway, Bo. Tell me about your trip.” Bokuto launched straight into a story about a poisonous bush he had found in Sweden, and Tetsurou let himself relax. If only a bit.

 

-

 

Bokuto soon became a regular fixture at the cafe, even on days when Akaashi wasn't working. His job at the prestigious research building down the block had him working odd hours, so he would pop into the cafe after his shift in the early mornings, or else beforehand, in the middle of the day. Tooru found himself looking forward to his visits more and more as the weeks progressed.

 

"And then this one time, Nee-san tried to dye it blond, to see if the new color would help the whole look," Bokuto said one day while Tooru took his break.

 

"Please, please, in the name of everything that is good on this earth, tell me there are pictures," Tooru said. Bokuto grinned and nodded.

 

"I'm pretty sure Nee-san has them, but they exist," he said. "It didn't go over well, so he convinced her to dye it back. But that's when Kenma dyed his hair blond, and he hasn't stopped since then, no matter how Nee-san tries to get him to try different colors."

 

"They're really close, right? Kuroo and Kozume?" Tooru asked, not really sure why the answer seemed so important to him. Bokuto picked up on it, though, and his entire demeanor seemed to go still and serious.

 

"They've been best friends since they were kids," he said. "Kenma was the most important person in the world to Kuroo for years. But there's never been anything between them. Kenma's a member of Kuroo's family, they all see him like that." Tooru nodded, looking down at the coffee cradled between his hands. Bokuto leaned over the table, his voice going quieter. "Y'know, Oikawa, I was really worried when he told me he was seeing someone. He swore off dating a couple of years ago, after this rough break up with a guy he met in college. So I hope you know, I'm really glad that you're the one he found." Tooru looked up at him, trying to ignore the heat rushing to his face.

 

"What do you mean by that?" he asked. Bokuto grinned.

 

"I mean that you're a cool dude," he replied. "And you seem like a good choice for Kuroo. I haven't seen him this happy in a while." Tooru didn't know how to answer that, so he stayed silent, staring down at the table again. The door to the kitchen opened and shut, and Bokuto's wrecking-ball attention swung over to the counter. "Hey, what's the story with Adonis over there?" he asked. Tooru turned to look and snorted.

 

"Daichi's dating Asahi," he said. "The one with the long hair and the goatee. But yeah, go for it."

 

"Wait, really?" Bokuto asked.

 

"Yeah," Tooru said with a shrug. "I mean, you might want to go slow, and maybe be ready for rejection, but it's not like we're the straightest cafe in town. I don't know how they feel about their own relationship, but I know they're fine with the idea of non-monogamy. After all, Akaashi and Iwa-chan work here, and they're both dating Makki. And I'm pretty sure the babies are in some weird combination, along with Kuroo's PA." Bokuto blinked at him, eyes wide and adorably confused. Tooru shook his head with a smile. "Just go," he said. Bokuto grinned and stood to saunter up to the counter. Tooru had only a moment to watch him lean over and grin at Daichi before the seat across from him was filled once more.

 

"So," Suga said, leaning forward with that inviting leer of his.

 

"So what?" Tooru asked.

 

"So, you've been abnormally quiet all day," Suga replied. "You and Bokuto were having a Very Serious Conversation over here, and I want to know what it was about."

 

“Nothing important,” Tooru answered. “He was telling me about what Kuroo was like as a kid.” He tried, oh how he tried, to keep all expression off his face, but the twitch of his lips and the heat of his cheeks gave him away. Suga’s grin slipped off his face and his eyes grew wide.

 

“Oh my god,” he whispered. Tooru shook his head, looking desperately for a way out of this. “Oh my _god._ Oikawa, oh my god!”

 

“Suga, please don’t,” Tooru whispered.

 

“Oh my god,” Suga repeated. “Have you told him yet?”

 

“No, I haven’t told him!” he hissed. “It’s not exactly something you just drop into casual conversation!”

 

“Yeah, but didn’t you tell me that’s exactly how he said it?” Suga asked.

 

“I didn’t tell you that,” Tooru said. “How the fuck did you find that out?”

 

“Nothing,” Suga said quickly. “Oikawa, you have to tell him!”

 

“I don’t have to tell him anything!” Tooru replied. “Right now, all I have to do is get back to work. Go torment Daichi, he could use some more misery.” He stood, scooping up his coffee and his apron, and scurried back to the safety behind the counter before Suga could say another word. But Tooru could feel his eyes on his back the whole way, lingering even as he slipped through the door into the kitchen. He took a deep breath and paused for just a moment. His phone buzzed in his pocket. With a frown, he fished it out and looked at the text he’d received.

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [Hey, are you free on Saturday? There’s going to be this stargazing event nearby, and I was wondering if you wanted to go.]

 

Tooru couldn’t bite back his smile as he typed out his reply.

 

ME: [I’d absolutely love to. What time?]

 

TETSU-CHAN (^Wω.^)ﾉ: [I’ll pick you up at seven?]

 

ME: [Sounds great]

 

Tooru bit his lip. The thought of spending a night looking at stars with Kuroo flooded him with a feeling he couldn’t quite identify, but that he knew he wanted more of. With Suga’s advice ringing in his ears, he pulled up another conversation.

 

ME: [Kiti-neesan, I need your help.]

 

-

 

There was something being plotted behind Tetsurou’s back, and he did not like it. Years of practice gave him a sharp eye for secrets, especially his sister’s. The fact that Oikawa seemed to be involved only made it worse, and as Saturday night drew near, he found himself half-dreading their date.

 

“Please, will you at least tell me what they’re planning?” he pleaded. Kenma, indifferent to Tetsurou’s plight, kept tapping away on his phone. “Kenma, come on!”

 

“I’m not telling you anything,” Kenma said. “I didn’t even want to be a part of it in the first place. I want as little to do with your love life as possible.”

 

“So you admit, it is about my love life,” Tetsurou cried. Kenma shrugged.

 

“I admit nothing,” he said. “If you really want to find out, you’re going to have to go pick Oikawa up like planned. And get out of my hair. You promised your apartment would be empty tonight.”

 

“Kenma, I thought you loved me!” Tetsurou whined. “Or at least tolerated me!”

 

“I don’t know what I did to give you that impression, but rest assured it was meant for the opposite,” Kenma replied.

 

Tetsurou’s watch beeped, his five-minute warning. Tetsurou groaned and tried to resist looking at himself in the mirror. He knew better than most that that would only lead to fussing over his hair, then his clothes, then his hair again, until he was late and ruined any chance he ever had with Oikawa. He took a deep breath and looked at Kenma one last time in hopes of reassurance. Kenma ignored him.

 

“Okay,” he whispered to himself. “Here goes.”

 

“Good luck,” Kenma muttered as he left. He tried not to think about what that meant.

 

The ride to the patisserie was far too short. Tetsurou sat on the train, trying not to jiggle his leg and attract any more of the ire of the old lady who sat across from him. When the train rolled into his stop, he all but sprinted for the door. As soon as his feet hit the pavement, he stopped dead.

 

Oikawa was waiting for him just across the platform. He was dressed simply, a light blue button-up and dark skinny jeans, a lime green scarf looped round his shoulders, but his face.

 

Oh, his face. He was wearing makeup, but Tetsurou wondered if anyone else could tell. A dab of gloss on his lips, a touch of color on his cheeks, a shade on his eyelids. His normally long eyelashes were made obscene by a skilled application of mascara, and Tetsurou was so fucking screwed.

 

Dimly, he could hear snickering as people pushed past him, probably coming from that tiny blonde girl, but he was too busy watching the way Oikawa noticed him and promptly blushed.

 

“Hi,” Oikawa said. His voice wavered, and he brought a hand up to tug at his obnoxious scarf.

 

“Hey,” Tetsurou whispered. Oikawa bit his lip and looked away.

 

“Did you want to-”

 

“You look incredible,” Tetsurou blurted. Oikawa cut off and stared at him, eyes wide.

 

“I-” he looked down, that soft sweet smile of his crossing his face. “Thank you,” he said. Slowly, almost timidly, Oikawa slipped his hand into Tetsurou’s and twined their fingers together. Once Tetsurou remembered how to make his legs work, he gave Oikawa’s hand a squeeze and led the way out of the station.

 

“It’s a bit of a walk,” he warned as he tried to resist the urge to swing their hands between them. “There’s a shuttle at this community center that’ll take us out to where the event’s gonna be.”

 

“A shuttle?” Oikawa asked. He shuffled a little closer to allow a man to pass him with a stroller. “How far are we going?”

 

“It’s right in the suburbs,” Tetsurou answered. “This little park by where Bokuto grew up. It shouldn’t take us more than twenty minutes to drive there, we just have to get to the center.” Oikawa nodded. Tetsurou could just make out a smile on his face as he stated swinging their joined hands. Tetsurou prayed he wasn’t blushing as badly as he thought, but it was hopeless. He was too enamored with Oikawa, with the way he hummed and smiled at everything he saw. He stared straight ahead and hoped he could make it through the night.

 

-

 

Tooru kept his hands clutched together in his lap in a vain attempt to keep them from trembling. Kuroo had given the last available seat to an elderly woman and was standing in front of him, smiling cheerfully at the story she was telling him. In fact, everyone on the bus seemed to be over the age of sixty, and they all seemed to know Kuroo.

 

"How do you know all these people?" Tooru asked when the woman finished her story and turned to the man next to her. Kuroo grinned.

 

"I taught water aerobics at the center for a while," he said. "Most of them are my former students. I had to give it up when work got busier, but I tried to stay in touch." Tooru stared at him, not sure whether he wanted to scream or kiss him right then and there. He settled for doing neither and simply suffering instead.

 

The bus arrived at the park not long after, in a section of the city that seemed darker than the others.

 

"They turned off most of the lights just for this meteor shower," a woman explained to Tooru as he helped her grab her bag from the overhead storage. "It's a tradition, same time every three years."

 

"How many times have you seen it?" he asked.

 

"Seventeen," she said with a triumphant grin. "My husband brought me here the night he proposed." She looked significantly at Kuroo, and it was all Tooru could do not to sputter.

 

"I don't-" he stammered, and she laughed.

 

"Oh, don't worry, dear, we all know Tetsu-kun won't be doing _that_ tonight," she said with a pat to his shoulder. "But still, it is an auspicious night for romance." With that, she wandered off, leaving Tooru wallowing in his own puddle of nerves. A hand on his shoulder made him jump nearly out of his skin.

 

“Sorry!” Kuroo cried, snatching his hand away. “I keep doing that, I’m sorry.” Tooru shook his head.

 

“Just startled me,” he said, reaching to take Kuroo’s hand in his own. “A-anyway, let’s go. It’ll be starting soon, right?” Kuroo glanced at his watch.

 

“We’ve actually got about twenty minutes,” he said. “But yeah, we should go find a good spot.” He grinned and tugged Tooru out of the bus.

 

The park was more a big open space than anything else, a grassy hill in the middle of a suburb, lined with a walking path and several trees. Kuroo pulled Tooru through the trees and up to the very top of the hill, where it seemed as if a spot had been saved for them. He was grinning like a child as he dug a blanket out of his bag and spread it in the space, flopping down and tugging Tooru after him. Tooru tripped, falling into Kuroo’s lap with a shriek and a laugh. He tried to shuffle away, but Kuroo wrapped his arms tight around his waist and held him in the space between his legs, his back leaning against Kuroo’s chest.

 

Tooru listened to the buzz around them, enjoying the warmth of Kuroo’s body pressed against his own. The nights were growing chilly, and Tooru was grateful for the extra heat as Kuroo started pointing out constellations - and getting about half of them wrong. He thought about correcting him, but sometime around the time he tried to turn Cassiopeia into Ursa Minor, Tooru decided it was much cuter this way.

 

The warmth and the gentle buzz of Kuroo’s voice in his ear was just starting to send Tooru off to sleep when he saw the first streak of light across the sky, and felt Kuroo go stiff behind him. The park lights turned off completely, and within seconds, the entire heavens were filled with a monsoon of stars. Tooru sat up straighter, watching with a slack jaw as the curtain of light grew thicker and more impossible, more incredible than anything he had ever seen. He glanced behind him to make sure Kuroo was seeing what he was seeing, and quickly amended that thought.

 

The stars were casting a soft white glow on Kuroo’s face, caressing his skin and lighting his eyes as if the entire cosmos were worshiping him. Tooru’s heart stuttered to a stop, then picked up wildly. He leaned his head on Kuroo’s shoulder, wanting to make sure he heard the words he was about to say.

 

Right at that moment, Kuroo looked down at him, and the whole world seemed to disappear. Just Tooru and Kuroo and a backdrop of falling stars. Tooru gathered all his courage and whispered.

 

“I love you.”

 

He could feel Kuroo’s breath stop in his chest and they passed a moment in tense silence. Then Kuroo’s arms went vice-tight around him and he buried his nose in the crook of Tooru’s neck.

 

“I love you too,” he whispered. “I love you, Tooru.”

 

Tooru smiled and craned his neck to drop a kiss on Kuroo’s temple. He turned his attention back to the stars, certain that despite the chill of early autumn he had never felt this warm.

 

-

 

Tooru was dead on his feet when he walked into work the next morning. He swore Asahi was conspiring against him when he assigned Tooru the opening shift that day - and Asahi had only smiled sweetly when Tooru had accused him of such, all but confirming his suspicions. He yawned as he made his way into the office to pick up the morning drawer, promising himself that the first cup of coffee he made would be for himself.

 

Daichi and Asahi were inside, talking in low voices with their heads bent together over something on Asahi’s desk. Tooru paused in the doorway, frowning.

 

“Is everything okay?” he asked. The others jumped and looked up at him, then glanced at each other.

 

“He’s going to find out at the staff meeting anyway,” Asahi reasoned. Daichi shrugged.

 

“We’ve hit a bit of a rough season,” he said. “We’ll be having a meeting this afternoon to discuss what we’re going to do about it, but if things don’t turn around we may be looking at closing the shop.”

 

-

 

Tetsurou wasn’t sure what he expected when he arrived in Oikawa’s apartment, but it wasn’t this. Oikawa had texted him that afternoon, simply demanding that he arrive with food, and Tetsurou had obeyed. But when he had opened the door, it had been to utter sweet-smelling chaos.

 

“Uh, Oikawa?” Tetsurou called, looking for a place to set his bag of takeout among all the cooling racks and baking trays cluttering the counters. Oikawa’s head popped around the doorway, and _fuck,_ he looked adorable, his bangs clipped back and his glasses on and his face smeared with flour.

 

“Oh, good, you’re here,” Tooru said. “Suga-chan says I’m not supposed to be unsupervised in a kitchen, but he left a couple of hours ago, and-”

 

“You did all this in a _couple of hours_?” Tetsurou interrupted. Oikawa bit his lip and nodded. “What’s going on?”

 

“I-” Oikawa looked down at his feet and wrung his hands together. He was wearing alien pajama pants, as if he couldn’t get any cuter and- “I stress-bake.”

 

“You what?” Tetsurou asked.

 

“I bake when I’m stressed,” Oikawa repeated. “It’s kind of how I got into it.” Tetsurou looked mutely around the entire confectioner’s shop worth of pastries and opened his arms. Oikawa fell into them with a groan.

 

“What happened?” he whispered, running his fingers through Oikawa’s hair.

 

“We had a staff meeting today,” Oikawa said. “Apparently we’ve hit a dry spell so long that Asahi and Daichi are talking about closing the shop if things don’t turn around. They called the meeting to see if anyone had ideas, but there wasn’t anything all that great. I’m scared, Tetsu-chan.”

 

“Okay,” Tetsurou said. “So, worst-case scenario, the shop closes and you have to find a new job. That won’t be too horrible, right? You’ve got plenty of qualifications.” Oikawa shook his head.

 

“It’s not the job I’m worried about,” he said.”This shop is a part of me now. I helped found it, you know. I was the first person they hired when they got the building approval.”

 

“Okay,” Tetsurou said. “Okay. So we save the shop, then.” Oikawa pulled away to stare up at him.

 

“What?” he stammered. “No, Tetsu-chan, you don’t have to do anything. You don’t have to deal with our-”

 

“Tooru.” Oikawa closed his mouth with a click, still looking at him with those scared eyes. Tetsurou cupped his cheek with one hand, running his thumb across the soft skin below his eye. “This business is important to you, right?” Oikawa nodded. “Baby, I work for an advertising firm. Hell, I practically run half the place. If there’s anything I can do to help, I’m going to.” All at once, Oikawa collapsed against his chest, all the fire running out of him at once.

 

“I love you,” he whispered.

 

“I love you too,” he said. “Why don’t you call Sawamura and tell him I’d be willing to work out a discount of some sort. Something about supporting local businesses. I’m sure they could use some good news right about now.” Oikawa nodded, but made no move to peel himself away from Tetsurou. He whined at Tetsurou’s chuckle and leaned harder against him. “I’m not carrying you,” Tetsurou said.

 

“You’re the worst boyfriend ever,” Oikawa whined. Tetsurou laughed again and wrapped his arms around Oikawa’s shoulders.

 

“That’s me,” he agreed. “Now, let’s go. You’ve got a call to make and I’ve got some muffins to eat.” Oikawa snorted and peeled himself away at last.

 

Tetsurou listened from the kitchen as Oikawa called Daichi and relayed his offer. He seemed to get a flat refusal at first, which didn’t surprise Tetsurou in the least.

 

He could pinpoint the exact moment when Asahi took over the phone, because Oikawa's entire demeanor went from battle mode to excited child at an amusement park. He babbled to Asahi, too quickly and too far away for Tetsurou to make out, but he perked up and started grinning. Tetsurou was halfway through his third muffin when Oikawa hung up and sauntered back into the kitchen.

 

"They want to meet with you sometime this week," he said. "I gave Asahi your office's number so that he could make an actual appointment and all that." Tetsurou smiled and drew Oikawa into his arms again, sighing happily when he leaned his head against Tetsurou's shoulder. "Thank you," Oikawa whispered.

 

"You don't need to thank me for something like this," Tetsurou said. "My motives are entirely selfish."

 

"How on earth could that be?" Oikawa asked, but his voice was teasing.

 

"See, I've got this adorable boyfriend, who I am absolutely crazy over, and he happens to love this bakery," Tetsurou explained. "If helping the bakery means I get to see more of his cute smiles, then damn it I'm going to save the bakery."

 

"What did I do to deserve you?" Oikawa whispered.

 

"You made these fucking amazing muffins," Tetsurou answered. "Seriously, what's in these, caramel?"

 

"And champagne," Oikawa said. "They were my favorite to make in culinary, but for obvious reasons we can't sell them in the bakery."

 

"That's fine," Tetsurou hummed. "You can just give them all to me." Oikawa laughed and swatted at Tetsurou's arm.

 

"Normally I give the excess to the fire department," he said. "I usually make too many to actually eat, and I can't sell them since they were made here instead of at work."

 

"The firefighters can have the cookies," Tetsurou compromised, picking up another muffin. "These are mine." Oikawa laughed again.

 

"Fine," he said, even as he took the muffin from Tetsurou's hand. "But we should eat some of that real food you brought at some point tonight." Tetsurou pouted, just to see the way Oikawa giggled at it.

 

The air was lighter now, as if the tension that had created all these pastries had never existed. Tetsurou followed Tooru into the living room where they both sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, dividing up the takeout. Oikawa put on some documentary about space and began correcting its physics. Tetsurou watched the light from the tv dance in Oikawa's hair.

 

It was a good night.

 

-

 

The next time Tooru walked into the bakery, it was armed with the knowledge that he was not going to give it up without a fight. Even the woman who came in insisting that her dog eating all the danishes she had ordered for her party was their fault and demanding a refund couldn't dull Tooru's determination.

 

"You're starting to scare me, Oikawa-san," commented Yamaguchi as he mopped up a batch of spilled batter. Oikawa didn’t look up from the cupcakes he was icing.

 

“I’m very determined, Yama-chan,” he said.  


“I can see that,” Yamaguchi replied. “But you do realize that that’s a piping bag, not a weapon, correct?” Tooru looked up at last and noticed just what a tight grip he had on the top of the bag. He loosened it, and the icing went much more easily. “You okay, Oikawa-san?”

 

“I’m fine,” Tooru sighed.

 

“Worried about the shop, or worried about your boyfriend?” Tooru shot Yamaguchi a dirty look.

 

“You’re too perceptive for your own good, I hope you know that,” he said. “And I guess it’s a little bit of both. Mostly the shop, though. People tend to jump ship when business start to go south.”

 

“I don’t know that you have much to worry about there,” Yamaguchi said. He dropped his mop into its bucket and surveyed the floor intently. “Most of us would be miserable anywhere else. We’re all too invested.”

 

“Money talks, Yama-chan,” Tooru replied.

 

“So do endorsements,” Yamaguchi said. “Sugawara-san is already talking us up even more on his blog, and I heard Bokuto-san mention something about his social media too.” He placed a slender hand on Tooru’s shoulder, the touch fleeting but firm. “I think you’ll be surprised, Oikawa-san.”

 

“I hope so, Yama-chan,” Tooru said. Yamaguchi smiled and disappeared into the storage closet just as the office door opened and Asahi and Daichi both emerged.

 

“Oikawa, against all my better judgment, you’re in charge until we get back,” Daichi said. Tooru wiped his hands on his apron and saluted him. Daichi sighed and shook his head, pushing through the kitchen door. Asahi gave him a smile and followed.

 

“Hey, how come they never leave me in charge?” Hinata cried. Tooru rolled his eyes and handed him the piping bag.

 

“Need I remind you, you were taken down by a cabinet last week, Chibi-chan?” he asked.

 

“I wasn’t taken down!” Hinata yelled. “The cabinet just made me bleed a little bit, that’s all. And anyway, it’s Tobio’s fault. If he hadn’t tried to kabe-don me, it never would’ve happened!”

 

“You cut yourself on it so bad that you had to go to the hospital for stitches,” Tooru replied. “I had to write up the report.” Hinata sulked at him for a moment, then turned to finish up the cupcakes. Tooru rolled his eyes and ruffled his hair. He took a breath and stepped through the door to the main room.

 

Now that he knew to look, Tooru could see just how empty the shop really was. There were one or two regulars, Suga in his corner and Makki beside him and a mother and her toddler on the far wall, but that was it. And judging by the way Akaashi was leaning lazily against the counter, that was all there had been for a while. Tooru sighed and glanced at the clock. Daichi and Asahi’s meeting with Kuroo wouldn’t start for another twenty minutes, but he was already desperate for news.

 

“Hey,” said Akaashi in a soft voice. Tooru looked up at him. “It’s going to be okay.”

 

“Aka-chan is being nice to me,” Tooru replied. “Clearly the entire universe has turned upside-down and nothing will ever be okay again.” Akaashi shot him a glare and he smiled, feeling a little better. Then he turned to face the shop and the monotony set in again.

 

It was the longest hour of Tooru’s life. No one came in at all, no customers demanding to use expired coupons or children screaming at the top of their lungs or loiterers looking for a free bathroom. The mother and child left, and Hanamaki shortly after them, and Tooru stared blindly into space. Akaashi’s shift ended and Yachi’s began and still there was no word.

 

Finally, when Tooru was giving up all hope of ever hearing from any of them again, Daichi and Asahi appeared through the door, the bell on the door giving a dull ding. Tooru stood bolt-upright, staring at them in silence. Yachi did the same beside him, though she all but vibrated with nervous energy.

 

Daichi was the one to notice them standing there. He smiled one of those warm, reassuring smiles of his, and he retreated to the back while Asahi pulled on an apron and slipped behind the counter.

 

“Azumane-san?” Yachi whispered.

 

“Nothing’s final yet until Daichi and I talk it over,” he said, “but I think we might have worked something out today.” Every muscle in Tooru’s body relaxed and he melted into a puddle against the counter. Yachi squeaked in terror and Asahi huffed in annoyance, shoving Tooru to the side. “Go home,” he said. “Your shift’s over.”

 

“But Asa-chan-” Tooru protested. Asahi cut him off with a glare and a mute finger pointing to the door. Tooru grumbled under his breath as he took off his apron, glaring at Asahi the entire way out of the shop.

 

He fingered his phone in his pocket as he walked to the station. Kuroo never texted him at work. He had mentioned once keeping his phone in a drawer so that it wouldn’t distract him, and Tooru had thought it was admirable at the time. Now, though, he just wanted some word from his boyfriend on whether or not his home had been saved. He pulled the phone out, deciding to at least leave a voicemail when a text caught his eye.

 

TETSU-CHAN <3: [I’m not allowed to tell you anything until the paperwork’s signed, but please don’t freak out, okay? I can say that everything looks like it’s going to be fine, so don’t stress bake tonight. I’ll bring over some cheap ramen and we can watch some crappy K-drama. Love you.]

 

Tooru read the message over a few times, looking for any hidden meaning as he waited for his train, though he knew better. Kuroo was far too professional for that. He contented himself with the prospect of seeing him that night and leaned against the wall, letting his eyes slip shut.

 

He was exhausted.

 

-

 

Tetsurou couldn't keep back a smile as he was let into Oikawa's apartment by a blanket monster. He barely got a grunt in response to his greeting before the blanket shuffled back into the living room and flopped onto the couch. Tetsurou chuckled and perched next to it, patting where he was pretty sure Oikawa's shoulder was hidden.

 

"Long day?" he asked. The blanket groaned. "I see there's no excess of baked goods waiting for me today. Good job." Another groan. Then,

 

"I'm so tired, Tetsu-chan." Tetsurou's heart melted into a little puddle.

 

"Sleep, then," he whispered. "I know you haven't been getting enough lately."

 

"Wanna spend time with you." Tetsurou could hear the pout in Oikawa's voice, could practically see the way he was biting his lip and furrowing his brows. Tetsurou leaned over and wrapped his arms around him, pulling the entire mess of man and blanket into his lap.

 

"You are spending time with me," he said as he rearranged them more comfortably. "I'd much rather see you taking care of yourself than ruining your health to give me witty banter." Oikawa huffed. At last, his face emerged from the blanket, a beautiful sulk adorning it.

 

"Did you bring food?" he muttered. Tetsurou smiled.

 

“Only the finest that five hundred yen can buy,” he replied, pulling the sack he had brought closer to them. “Have you ever noticed how you can get a ton of crappy food for a little money, but only a little food for a lot? Like, the higher quality, the less you get.”

 

“It’s because of the price of ingredients,” Oikawa said as he grabbed one of the heaping takeout boxes. “Better food is made from better ingredients, which cost more than whatever shit they threw into this.” He shoveled a pile of noodles into his mouth to punctuate his sentence, slurping up the ends.

 

“I adore you,” Tetsurou said. Oikawa snorted.

 

“Why, because I know how much flour costs?” he asked.

 

“In part,” Tetsurou replied. “I mean, it’s mostly your stunning good looks, your grace and poise and dignity, but the flour thing helps.” He got a laugh for that, and Oikawa nestling closer to him on the couch.

 

By the time Tetsurou finished his dinner, Oikawa had devoured his own and fallen asleep. He was snoring against Tetsurou’s chest, half his face smashed at an awkward angle and his mouth hanging open. Tetsurou rolled his eyes. He wondered if he would mind it if Oikawa drooled all over him.

 

Probably not.

 

-

 

The best part of being a stress-baker who worked in a patisserie was that sometimes, on very special occasions, Tooru got to turn his skills to something more ostentatious than cookies or danishes. Today was one of those blessed days.

 

“God bless Sugawara and his demented little mind,” he said as he sculpted. He could feel Akaashi’s disappointment in him, in Sugawara, in the universe at large, but it did nothing to dull Tooru’s glee.

 

“What did he even order that thing for?” he asked, sounding like he didn’t want an answer in the slightest.

 

"I'm pretty sure he said something about Bokuto's birthday tomorrow," Tooru answered. "But he's Suga-chan. He's always got an ulterior motive." Akaashi grunted in acknowledgment and let Tooru get back to his work.

 

It was a very explicit cake that Suga had ordered, one that would have gotten him thrown out of any other bakery. Tooru smiled to himself, remembering the reaction he’d gotten instead.

 

"Daichi," Suga had said, his voice innocent and his eyes sharp, "a cake in the shape of my dick wouldn't be too much to make a move on someone, would it?" Daichi had sputtered and spat his drink all over the counter, a mess he had later ordered a cackling Tooru to clean up.

 

"Suga, why am I friends with you again?" Daichi had groaned. "And before you answer that, yes, I think any cake modeled after your dick would be too much. For anyone to handle."

 

"Fine," Suga had said, pouting. "Then I'll just have to order it for Bokuto's birthday party."

 

"What?" Daichi had wheezed. Suga had shrugged and turned back to his computer.

 

"I'm sure you guys would be making it anyway," he said. "Akaashi's his best friend. And since I'm doing most of the organizing for it already, I'll just go ahead and place the order, no sweat." Tooru had watched in glee as Suga had filled out their online order form for one white cake molded in the shape of a man's torso, with erect phallus. Daichi had glared and threatened under his breath, but he had also allowed the order to go through for processing.

 

Which meant that now, Tooru was sculpting the abdomen of the cake while Akaashi modeled its attachment out of white chocolate.

 

"Only we would have to deal with this," Akaashi muttered. "I've talked to people form other bakeries in town, you know. They don't have to put up with this shit."

 

"Yes, but if you worked for another bakery, how would you have met Iwa-chan?" Tooru pointed out. Akaashi's lips quirked into a lecherous smirk, and suddenly Tooru regretted bringing Iwaizumi into the conversation. "Anyway," he said quickly, "I think he's trying to use it to woo Tanaka as well."

 

"Nothing says true love like a dick cake," Akaashi agreed. "I just wish he hadn't felt the need to send reference photos."

 

"Wait, he sent you dick picks?" Tooru asked, abandoning his work to skip over to Akaashi's station. Sure enough, there were three photos lined up against the wall, each more explicit than the last. Tooru whistled in appreciation. "You think it's going to work?" he asked.

 

"Fifty thousand yen says it doesn't," Akaashi said.

 

"Done." Tooru returned to his station and got back to work.

 

Explicit cakes aside, it was a quiet day at the patiserie. There were few customers and fewer disruptions, only a child destroying the men's room and a woman dropping her bagel and immediately demanding a refund. Tooru wished he could enjoy the peaceful atmosphere, but the voice at the back of his head wouldn't let him forget what the quiet meant.

 

Kuroo was waiting for him when he got off that evening after closing the cafe. He leaned against the wall just outside the door, and smiled that dazzling smile of his when Tooru appeared.

 

"Busy day?" he asked, seeing the discontent on Tooru's face. Tooru shook his head.

 

"Slow," he replied. "That's the problem." He sighed and leaned against Kuroo's shoulder, trying to wrap himself around his arm. "Please tell me you're going to fix this," he whispered.

 

"I can't tell you that," Kuroo replied. "But Asahi signed the paperwork today, so I can tell you that we're going to try." Tooru slumped in relief, putting most of his weight on his companion.

 

"You're the best boyfriend ever," he said. Kuroo freed his arm to wrap it around Tooru's shoulders instead.

 

"I bought you milkbread," he said. Tooru groaned.

 

"Now you're just showing off," he said. Kuroo laughed. Tooru closed his eyes and floated on the noise as they walked together to the station.

 

"So, you're not working tomorrow, right?" Kuroo asked, snapping Tooru out of his thoughts. Tooru shook his head and Kuroo smiled. "Good. That means your usual delivery guy will be bringing the cake, right?"

 

"Nishinoya makes most of our deliveries, yes," Tooru said. "Why do you ask?"

 

"He and Kenma get along really well," Kuroo told him. "I've made it my mission to give them as many opportunities to meet as possible." Tooru grinned.

 

"No kidding," he said. "I thought Kenma didn't like loud people."

 

"He doesn't," Kuroo agreed, "but there are exceptions. Me, the shrimp, Bokuto. And apparently now Nishinoya." He smiled down at his feet, a soft, fond look that made Tooru's chest go tight. Tooru smiled and squeezed Kuroo’s hand. “Sorry!” Kuroo said suddenly. “I kind of went off on a tangent, didn’t I?”

 

“It’s okay,” Tooru said. “I like your tangents.” Kuroo turned that fond smile on him, and the world went warm and soft. Tooru leaned his head on Kuroo’s shoulder to get away from the look, but Kuroo sighed happily and pressed his cheek to the top of Tooru’s head, and that was worse, so much worse. Tooru closed his eyes and tried to push down the fluttering in his stomach.

 

“We’re here,” Kuroo said softly as the train pulled into the next stop. Tooru nodded and stood, following Kuroo out of the train and down the street to his apartment.

 

-

 

Tetsurou could hear the party beginning down the hall, but he couldn’t peel himself away from his computer. The mockups for a client needed his approval before they could be sent on, and he had wanted to get them done before lunch. But then Shibayama had come across a problem in another client’s commission, and everyone had stopped what they were doing to get it resolved. He was a good two hours behind on his work, and it just didn’t feel right abandoning it now to celebrate.

 

Still, he felt awful for not joining his own best bro’s birthday party. Bokuto had only been back in town for a couple of months, and now there was talk of another press tour and practice matches across Asia. Tetsurou had only just gotten him back, and already he was going to lose him again.

 

“If I’m not allowed to hide from them, neither are you.” Tsukishima’s voice startled Tetsurou out of his thoughts so badly that he knocked his knees on the desk. Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, but refrained from commenting. Tetsurou sighed and looked at his overflowing inbox.

 

“I can’t, Tsukki,” he said. Tsukishima scoffed and lunged forward, seizing Tetsurou by the shoulders and hauling him out of his chair with a strength Tetsurou hadn’t known he possessed.

 

“Go,” he said. “Your boyfriend is sitting in there, pouting, waiting for you to grace him with his presence. That, and see, and I quote, the masterpiece he spent hours lovingly creating just for this very special occasion’.” Tetsurou smiled at that, and earned himself a disgusted look from Tsukishima.

 

“Fine,” he said. “But I hope you know that means we’re working later tonight.”

 

“I’ll survive,” Tsukishima droned. He gave Tetsurou one last shove toward the door, determined to get his own way.

 

“Tetsu-chan!” Tetsurou was barely through the door to the conference room where the party was being held before a warm body collided with his own, Oikawa wrapping his arms around his neck. “You’re just in time,” he whispered into Tetsurou’s ear. “Noya’s on his way up with the cake. Suga-chan didn’t tell Bokuto that he ordered it, and he has no idea what it is.”

 

“ _I_ have no idea what it is,” Tetsurou pointed out. “You wouldn’t tell me last night.”

 

“That’s because it’s a surprise,” Oikawa scoffed. “Look, there he is now!” Sure enough, the door opened and the little black-and-yellow-haired delivery boy came bounding through with a white box, out of the top of which poked-

 

“Oikawa, is there a penis on that cake?” Tetsurou breathed. Oikawa nodded, his grin growing far too bright. “There’s something wrong with that Sugawara.”

 

“Isn’t he great?” Oikawa squeaked. The rest of the room had caught sight of Nishinoya by now, as he set the cake on the table and carefully lifted the box away. There was a torso attached to the penis, with rippling abs and prominent pecs and _Make a wish and blow!_ written across its surface in white piping. Bokuto laughed, long and loud, but Tetsurou could see the way his ears turned pink and he glanced nervously at the corner where Asahi was patting a red-faced Daichi on the shoulder.

 

Daichi wasn’t the only one blushing. It seemed only a few people were unaffected by the explicit nature of the cake. Tetsurou’s favorite was Tanaka, who squawked loudly and smacked at Sugawara’s shoulder while Bokuto blew out his candle. Oikawa leaned into his side, still snickering, as they watched it all unfold. Tetsurou wrapped his arm around Oikawa’s shoulder closed his eyes with a smile.

 

-

 

Management meetings were easily the worst torture ever invented by the mind of man. Tooru sat in a folding chair with three functional legs, his head on Akaashi's shoulder and his feet propped up in Yamaguchi's lap while everyone in the room stared at one another in silence.

 

"So, no one has any ideas?" Asahi sighed.

 

"I gave you a perfectly good i-"

 

"We are _not_ becoming a macho cafe, Tanaka," Daichi interrupted.

 

"Why are you so afraid of good ideas?" Tanaka muttered.

 

"Oikawa-san, you said Kuroo-san mentioned he was justifying this nepotism by supporting local business, right?" asked Yamaguchi.

 

"It isn't _nepotism_ , it's-"

 

"Yamaguchi," Daichi interrupted. "What's up?" Yamaguchi shrugged and stopped fiddling with Tooru's shoelaces.

 

"What if we partnered with other local businesses?" he asked. "See if we can set up a promotion between the two, something we could either host or cater depending on who we get."

 

"The shelter I volunteer at is always looking for opportunities to hold adoption awareness events," Tanaka said softly. Tooru glanced at him, waiting for the punchline.

 

“You… volunteer?” Akaashi asked. Tanaka huffed and crossed his arms.

 

“I have a life outside of this place, you know,” he muttered.

 

“No you don’t,” Yamaguchi said. “Your life outside of us is running around with Noya-san or Suga-san.”

 

“ _And_ volunteering at Paws ‘n’ Claws Animal Shelter,” Tanaka said.

 

“ _Paws_ _‘n’ Claws_?” Asahi repeated.

 

“Oh my god, that’s adorable,” Tooru whispered.

 

“Does Suga know about this?” Daichi asked. Tanaka dropped his head in his hands.

 

“See, this is why I didn’t tell anyone,” he muttered. “But yes, I volunteer at an animal shelter a couple of blocks away. I can ask my manager about an outreach partnership or something, if you want.”

 

“Actually,” Daichi said slowly, looking carefully at Asahi, “that sounds like a pretty good idea.”

 

“We’ve got the sidewalk space if we wanted to bring some in,” Asahi agreed. “And we could release some pet-friendly products to go along with it.”

 

“Tanaka, when can you talk to them about it?” Daichi asked.

 

“I have a shift tomorrow afternoon,” Tanaka replied.

 

“Oikawa, go with him,” Daichi said. A grin spread across his face, devious and terrifying. “Take Kuroo if you want, so he can tell them more clearly about what we’re suggesting.” Tooru frowned and leaned closer to Akaashi.

 

“I don’t trust that face,” he murmured, eyes still on Daichi.

 

“You shouldn’t,” Akaashi agreed. “But you should also get off of me before I do something permanent to _your_ face.” Tooru shrugged and returned to his original place against Akaashi’s shoulder.

 

“All of you out,” Daichi barked. “Yachi and Hinata have been in charge of the shop for almost an hour now. Any longer and we risk the whole place coming down.” Yamaguchi sprang from his chair, knocking Tooru to the floor. He was gone by the time Tooru could peel himself off the ground disappearing among the laughter of everyone else.

 

-

 

Oikawa had a vice-hold on Tetsurou’s wrist as he dragged him through the streets near the cafe. Tetsurou couldn’t help but laugh at the way Oikawa ran to and fro his face growing brighter and brighter as they neared their destination.

 

“Okay, so Ryuu-chan said he would talk to his manager today, but I don’t know if he’s done it yet or not. So we may not get to speak to whoever’s in charge right away, but I figured we could just wait in the front while everything gets sorted if we have to.” Oikawa’s babbling was endearing most of the time, but Tetsurou was having trouble keeping up.

 

“Oikawa!” Tetsurou cried. Oikawa laughed and kept dragging. Tetsurou chuckled and let him go.

 

Oikawa skidded to a stop outside a building with stubbornly cheerful paint and a crooked sign. Tetsurou stared up at it in horror.

 

“Oikawa, you never said we were going to an animal shelter,” he hissed. Oikawa blinked at him, his expression adorably confused.

 

“Didn’t I?” he asked, then shrugged. “Is there a problem with that?”

 

“Nope,” Tetsurou lied. “No problem whatsoever.” Oikawa narrowed his eyes, but didn’t comment. Instead, he ducked inside the building with a smile on his face and Tetsurou knew right then and there that he was well and royally screwed.

 

There was a reason he didn’t come to these places. A very good reason that Kiti and Kenma had never let him hear the end of, no matter how hard he tried to hide from it. A reason now multiplied exponentially with the fact that now he was here with _Oikawa_ , his beautiful, adorable, heart-wrenching, manipulative boyfriend.

 

Oikawa squealed in delight, and Tetsurou resigned himself to his fate.

 

“Look, Tetsu-chan!” he shouted happily. Tetsurou took a deep, slow breath, and turned to see his doom.

 

Oikawa had a puppy in his arms, a floppy brownish-yellow thing with big paws and bigger eyes. As Tetsurou looked, the puppy wriggled around in Oikawa’s arms so it could lick at his face. He squealed again, giggling and scrunching his face up and Tetsurou was fucked.

 

He was spared from having to react by a door opening and Tanaka and a surly-looking man coming through it. He tore his eyes away from Oikawa and straightened his shoulders, trying to remind himself that he was a professional, here to do business and nothing more.

 

“Ryuu-chan!” Oikawa cried. “Why didn’t you tell me about this place sooner?”

 

“Because I didn’t want you here,” Tanaka replied with a grin. “This is Kyoutani, the manager. I already filled him in, and he’s on board. We just need to set out a specific plan, date and time and all that stuff.”

 

“Does Kyoutani-kun ever speak for himself?” Oikawa asked. Tetsurou could still see him with the puppy out of the corner of his eye.

 

“No,” growled Kyoutani. Oikawa perked up, practically vibrating with excitement. Tetsurou stepped forward to spare Kyoutani from whatever was about to come out of Oikawa’s mouth, holding his hand out.

 

“Kuroo Tetsurou,” he said with a smile. “I’ll be handling all the marketing. Thanks for signing on with us.” Kyoutani shook his hand, but with the glare on his face and the tightness of his grip, he may as well have spat in Tetsurou’s face. Tetsurou smiled wider. Kyoutani was his very favorite type of client.

 

“So Daichi and Asahi mentioned a sidewalk sale,” Tanaka said as he moved behind the front counter. Kyoutani followed silently, a moon in Tanaka’s orbit. “I figured we could bring one or two of our eye-catchers, and then maybe Molly and Kazu?” He started pulling folders out of a cabinet under the counter, spreading them out as he named each one. Tetsurou watched in fascination as Kyoutani touched each folder, sliding some into a different order and pulling one or two away completely. He glanced up with a smirk as he pulled one folder away. Tanaka laughed and set that folder off to the side.

 

“Yacchan and I were also talking about releasing a line of dog treats at the bakery,” Oikawa said, stepping closer to the counter. He still had that damn puppy, propped on one hip like a baby as he used his free hand to fish a paper out of his bag. Kyoutani snatched it and glared at it for a moment, before nodding and handing it to Tanaka.

 

“Yeah, this should all work,” Tanaka said, nodding slowly. “So we need to figure out a when. We usually have more animals during the colder weather, so maybe sometime around the winter release?” Oikawa hummed, nodding.

 

“We do a release of seasonal products four times a year,” he explained, glancing up at Tetsurou. “During fall and winter we have mulled cider and hot chocolate, along with exclusive flavors.”

 

“So people will be cold, and looking for a hot drink,” Tetsurou said. “Tanaka, that’s actually pretty smart.”

 

“Why do you say that like it’s such a surprise?” Tanaka muttered. Tetsurou grinned.

 

“Because the last time I saw you, you were running around with Bokuto’s shorts over your head, screaming about how much you-” Tanaka launched himself over the counter to clap his hands over Tetsurou’s mouth. He glanced frantically at Oikawa, whose face was bright and curious, then leaned in close so that only Tetsurou could hear.

 

“If you tell that blabbermouth about that,” he growled, “I will take him to the back room and show him all the poor little puppies with three legs or one eye.” Tetsurou swallowed and nodded. Tanaka released him and crawled back over the counter. “So, Oikawa-san, when were we planning the release this year?”

 

“November nineteenth,” Oikawa answered.

 

“Kinda late this year, isn’t it?” Tanaka asked. Oikawa shrugged.

 

“Dai-chan was hoping to get more mileage out of the pumpkin spice this year,” he said.

 

“The nineteenth works,” Kyoutani said softly, flipping through a big appointment book. Tanaka nodded. The puppy whined softly and Oikawa cooed at it.

 

“So,” Tetsurou said, hoping the others couldn’t hear the strain in his voice. “Sounds like we’ve got that all worked out, so I think that’s all we needed today. Kyoutani-san, I’ll email you some paperwork that I’ll need you to sign, and then we can work out the little details with Azumane and Sawamura, good?” Kyoutani nodded and turned to go without a word.

 

“Don’t mind,” Tanaka said absently as he started stacking the folders together. “He doesn’t handle new people well, but trust me. He’s happy.” He bent to put the folders back into their cabinet, and straightened with a grin that made Tetsurou’s stomach turn.

 

“You missed one,” he murmured, glancing at the folder still on the counter.

 

“Nah, I meant to leave that one out,” Tanaka replied. He pulled the folder closer to him and turned it around, flipping the cover open. The same yellowish-brown puppy still cradled in Oikawa’s arms grinned up at him from the first page. “Meet your new best friend,” Tanaka said. Tetsurou groaned and pulled the adoption form toward himself.

 

-

 

Tooru woke with a faceful of fur and a knot of dread in his stomach. He rolled over enough to squint at the clock.

 

Eleven thirty-six. Just under half an hour before he was supposed to start his shift. He closed his eyes and rolled over again. He pressed his nose into Ichirou’s fur and wished the world away. A moment of self-pity, then he dug his phone out from under the blankets.

 

ME: [F-day Asa-chan I can probably make it if you absolutely need me]

 

He pretended not to exist for a few moments, then his phone buzzed an answer.

 

ASA-CHAN: [I called Yamaguchi in. You’re fine. Get some rest.]

 

Tooru mustered up half a smile for his phone, then dropped it. He reached around Ichirou to grab another pillow and dropped it over his head, letting the warmth and the smell of Kuroo’s shampoo lull him far enough out of the panic that he could fall back asleep.

 

He woke not long later to the sound of the front door banging open and Ichirou launching himself off the bed.

 

“Tooru?” called Kuroo from the living room. His feet pounded down the hall and all at once he was filling the doorway, his eyes desperate and his face drenched with sweat.

 

“What’re you doing home?” Tooru asked. He had a sinking feeling he knew the answer.

 

“I dropped by the bakery during lunch,” Kuroo answered. His voice was blessedly softer now, but he was walking over to the bed, sitting down by Tooru’s feet. “Iwaizumi said you had called in sick.”

 

“I’m fine,” Tooru said. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

 

“Tooru,” Kuroo chided. “I know you wouldn’t stay home if you were well enough to go. What’s wrong?” Tooru shook his head and pulled the blanket up to his chin, turning away. “Tooru, please?”

 

“It’s an f-day,” Tooru said quietly. “A fog day. I couldn’t go to work today because my head isn’t working right.”

 

“Do you know where you are right now?” Kuroo asked. On another day, Tooru might have laughed at the caution in his voice.

 

“Yes, Tetsu-chan,” he said. “I’m not dissociating right now, not like before. It’s more like today’s got a high risk for it.” Kuroo nodded and Tooru closed his eyes. He listened to Kuroo shuffle around for a bit, and then the bed dipped some more and Tooru was pulled against a warm chest and tucked between strong arms. He did smile then, soft and not quite fully-formed, and laid a hand on top of Kuroo’s. “You should go back to work,” he whispered, though they both knew he didn’t mean it. Kuroo grunted and pulled him closer, and Tooru fell asleep again.

 

-

 

They were supposed to be there going over rough designs for the posters promoting the adoption day, as Tetsurou reminded himself several times. He was having trouble getting himself to actually work, however, when Nishinoya was chatting Kenma’s ear off on the other side of the cafe, and Kenma was actually letting him. Tetsurou leaned against the counter and watched with a smile on his face that he knew his best friend would frown at, if only he could see it. As it was, Kenma’s back was turned and Tetsurou was free to smile all he wanted.

 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Kuroo?” Tetsurou smiled wider at the irritation coloring Daichi’s voice. He turned so that he could lean his elbows on the counter and his chin on his hands.

 

“Not a place in the world, Sawamura-kun,” he purred. “Actually I’m here for you. Or your bearded lover, either one. We’ve got some poster designs for your approval.”

 

“If I look at them, will you go away?” Daichi asked.

 

“I will,” Tetsurou agreed. “I might leave Kenma here, though.”

 

“Why would you do that?” Daichi asked as he fiddled with the espresso machine.

 

“True love,” Tetsurou replied. “Actually I was probably going to anyway. He’s head artist on your case, and I like to make him go out and see the world by dumping him with our clients for an afternoon or two.”

 

“Geez, no wonder Oikawa gets along so well with you,” Daichi muttered. “You’re both meddlesome.”

 

“We are,” Tetsurou agreed with a dreamy sigh. “And speaking of meddling, has Bo been by lately?”

 

“No,” Daichi said. His ears turned pink, but his face stayed blank. “Why do you ask?”

 

“No reason,” Tetsurou hummed. “I just heard from my sister that he’s been hanging around her salon, looking out the window and moping, is all.”

 

“Kuroo, if you have a point, please make it and leave me alone,” Daichi sighed.

 

“No point,” Tetsurou said. “Just waiting to look over these posters, that’s all.” Daichi grumbled something under his breath and wiped his hands on a rag.

 

“Fine, let’s get this over wi-” A commotion outside cut Daichi off mid-sentence. All eyes turned to the windows as a slender woman with long black hair threw a man twice her size to the ground. She planted her foot on the center of his chest and started yelling at him while he stared up at her in terror. “Kuroo, isn’t that your sister?” Daichi asked.

 

“Yep,” Tetsurou answered.

 

“Should someone go help her?” Tanaka asked.

 

“Nope,” Tetsurou answered.

 

“Nee-san can handle herself,” Kenma added. “And if you help her, she might do the same thing to you.” Daichi shivered as they all watched Kiti finish her scolding and let the man up. He scrambled away, glancing back over his shoulder as though waiting for her to follow. She tossed her hair and straightened her blouse and then disappeared into the salon. A moment later, the door to the cafe opened and a woman walked in, looking dazed. She set a motorcycle helmet on a table and walked slowly to the counter, where she collapsed.

 

“Ryuu,” she whispered. Tanaka patted her head absently. “Ryuu, I’m in love.”

 

“I know, Nee-chan,” Tanaka replied. “I saw the whole thing.”

 

“No, Ryuu,” said the woman, lifting her head and clutching at his wrist. “You didn’t hear her. She was so angry. Like a war goddess. He didn’t even get to finish catcalling her before she grabbed him.”

 

“Yeah, she does that,” Tetsurou said. The woman turned to him, sharp eyes narrowing in a way that made Tetsurou feel suddenly naked. “Tanaka, why’s she looking at me like that?”

 

“Good luck, man,” Tanaka said. “Nee-chan, that’s Kuroo. Her little brother.”

 

“Looks like you’re gonna be busy for a bit, so I’m going to go talk to Kozume-san while you’re busy with Saeko,” Daichi said, all in one breath. He patted Tetsurou on the shoulder and then he was gone and the woman was stalking toward him.

 

“Kuroo-kun, was it?” she asked. “I’m Tanaka Saeko. You and I are gonna have a little chat.”

 

-

 

Tooru was just putting the finishing touches on dinner when Kuroo stumbled through the door. He staggered into the kitchen and slumped against the counter, sliding to the floor with a shell-shocked expression.

 

"Welcome home," Tooru hummed. Kuroo chuckled, smiling up at him, and Tooru's chest felt tight.

 

"I'm home," he murmured. "You do know that you don't actually live here, right?" Tooru turned back to the stove in an effort to cover the way his smile faltered.

 

"Does it bother you?" he asked softly. "That I'm here so often?"

 

"Nope," Kuroo said. He yawned, stretching his legs out in front of him and letting his head rest against the counter behind him. "I was just making sure you realized that." Tooru grunted, stirring the contents of his pan.

 

The kitchen was silent, save for the sounds of sizzling meat and vegetables and the occasional shuffle of Tooru's feet. As he stepped to one side to start grabbing plates from a cabinet, Kuroo hooked an arm around his calf and leaned over until he could rest his head on his thigh.

 

"I wouldn't mind it, you know," he said, so softly that Tooru almost didn't hear it. "If you did live here, I mean."

 

"Maybe I would," Tooru replied, bumping his knee against Kuroo's shoulder to get him to let go. "After all, where would I take all my other boyfriends?"

 

"You could bring them here," Kuroo said. "I'm always up for a party." Tooru chuckled.

 

"The only thing you sound up for right now is a nap," he said. Kuroo groaned and dropped his head against the counter again.

 

"I was interrogated today," he said. Tooru looked at him curiously. "Tanaka's sister is in love with mine," Kuroo explained.

 

"Ah, I see," Tooru said. "So Saeko-neesan wanted to know all about her, I take it."

 

"She interviewed me for three hours, Tooru," Kuroo mumbled. "I didn't know someone could ask that many questions."

 

"Three?" Tooru repeated. "She must really like Kiti-neesan, then. Usually she only goes for one or two." Tooru glanced over at Kuroo and couldn't help the heat rising to his cheeks, or the smile tugging at his lips.

 

Kuroo's eyes were closed, and his expression smooth and blank. His arms were draped across his lap and his legs spread out across the tile floor, and he looked utterly content. Tooru set down his spoon and reached out to thread his fingers through that soft black hair, his hand shaking just a bit as Kuroo leaned into the touch.

 

"I meant it, y'know," he murmured. Tooru smiled.

 

"I know," he said. "Let me think about it." Kuroo nodded. "In the meantime," Tooru continued, pulling his hand away and turning back to the stove, "get your lazy ass off the floor. Dinner's ready."

 

"You're an angel," Kuroo groaned.

 

"Don't get used to it," Tooru chuckled. "And don't start complimenting me before you taste it. I'm a much better baker than I am a cook." Kuroo smiled up at him, and Tooru ignored him in favor of taking the dishes out to the table. They ate dinner mostly in silence, picking bits of food off each other’s plates while Ichirou slept at their feet.

 

-

 

Oikawa Tooru was a menace, and Tetsurou was determined that everyone would know it.

 

Tetsurou had taken the day off for the event, so that he could be there for moral support, and even though it was nice to see everything going so well, he was regretting it.

 

Oikawa was everywhere. Every time Tetsurou looked up he was flitting up to a new customer, or handing over a cup, or bending over to look at a dog with a little girl, all with that same supernova smile on his face.

 

Tetsurou was not having a good day.

 

“Geez, you look like someone just killed your mom,” said a happy, familiar voice. Bokuto flopped into the chair next to Tetsurou, grinning widely. His hair and clothes were a mess, and Tetsurou could see the edges of a glorious trail of hickies under his collar. He glanced up to see both Asahi and Daichi moving quickly away from the door to the back of the cafe, looking almost as rumpled as Bokuto.

 

“Anything you’d like to share with your best bro, Bo?” Tetsurou hummed. Bokuto only smiled.

 

“It’s going around,” he said. “Me ‘n’ them, Neesan and Saeko, you ‘n’ Oikawa. It’s nice.”

 

“Yeah,” Tetsurou sighed, smiling and leaning against Bokuto’s shoulder. “It is.” He looked around the shop. Pretty much everyone was there, even though most of them were off duty. Yamaguchi was sitting against one wall, Hinata in his lap and his arm around Kageyama’s shoulders, murmuring to Yachi while she set down their drinks. Daichi and Asahi were standing with their arms around each other, looking over the bustling room like a pair of doting parents. Tanaka and Suga were giggling together, their hands clasped and their faces flushed. Akaashi was working the counter, his hands quick and clever, and when Iwaizumi emerged front he kitchen with a tray of pastries, he paused long enough to peck him on the cheek. Everywhere not occupied by employees was stuffed with customers, parents and children, couples, friends, solitary people just there to enjoy the drinks and the atmosphere. Most of the dogs were gone, and Tetsurou watched as Iwaizumi had to apologize to a woman for being out of apple danishes. And Oikawa-

 

Oikawa was nowhere to be seen. Tetsurou frowned, sitting upright and looking around, but there was no sign of his larger-than-life boyfriend.

 

“Hey, Bo, have you seen-”

 

“He’s at the park,” interrupted Asahi, sitting down on Bokuto’s other side. “I made him leave since I can’t let him work when he’s off the clock. He wandered off in that direction, so I figure…” Asahi gave him a smile and a shooing gesture, and Tetsurou stood with a gin. He paused at the door, glancing back to see Daichi take his place on Bokuto’s free side. He left, wondering when exactly the shop had become his home as well.

 

The noise from the event died to a muffled hum as Tetsurou turned the corner into the little park hidden between the restaurant and the office building. The night was cold and clear, the strings of paper lanterns and what little of the streetlights filtered through the buildings lit the park in a soft, almost magical glow. And in the center of it all sat Oikawa, bundled in one of Tetsurou’s jackets, cradling a cup from the cafe. He looked up at Tetsurou and smiled, and in spite of himself Tetsurou blushed.

 

“I was wondering when you’d find me,” Oikawa said as Tetsurou eased into the seat beside him. He opened his arms and Tetsurou nestled into him, sighing contentedly.

 

“This place is even better at night,” Tetsurou said. Oikawa hummed in agreement.

 

“This is where we had our first date,” he said, as if Tetsurou could forget. Out of the corner of his eye, Tetsurou could see him smiling. “I talked to Asahi,” he said. “One of the customers today, he was some sort of big bad business man. He said he loved our cafe, and he was so happy to see that we wanted to help the community with events like this. He said he wanted to talk about investing, and about maybe franchising.”

 

“Tooru, that’s-”

 

“And it’s all because of you,” Oikawa continued as though he hadn’t heard Tetsurou. “You’re the reason any of this happened.”

 

“All I did was provide a handhold,” Tetsurou said. “It wouldn’t have worked if everyone involved wasn’t so incredible in the first place.” Oikawa smiled down at him, nuzzling his cheek into Tetsurou’s hair.

 

“So I was thinking,” he said, his voice giddy and playful and serious all at once, the same way it had sounded when Oikawa had first said he’d loved him, that night under the stars. “My lease is up in two weeks.”

 

“Is it now?” Tetsurou teased. Oikawa hummed and nodded.

 

“And there’s this dog, you see,” he continued. “A big, dumb baby whom I absolutely adore. And really, it’s not fair to him that one of his dads is only there with him some of the time.”

 

“Are you saying you’re only moving in with me because of Ichirou?” Tetsurou huffed. Oikawa’s smile widened, something Tetsurou hadn’t believed possible.

 

“Our son needs me,” he laughed. Tetsurou shook his head and lurched forward, knocking them both to the ground. Oikawa shrieked and wrapped his arms around Tetsurou’s neck, rolling them over. They grappled on the cold ground for a moment, until Oikawa ran out of breath and Tetsurou stopped, letting Oikawa lay across his chest. Oikawa propped his chin on Tetsurou’s sternum, and there, with the stars and the lanterns and the streetlights casting a soft, almost magical glow, Tetsurou held him close.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://notsuchasecret.tumblr.com)


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